


Strange Love

by badwolv



Series: The Strange Love Series [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Basically a novel of pacing and background for a relationship to form, Closeted!Victoria, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Maximum Victory - Freeform, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Save Arcadia Bay Ending, Slow Romance, chasefield, mature for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:56:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 83,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolv/pseuds/badwolv
Summary: Victoria Chase and Max Caulfield keep crossing paths, each interaction a discovery into one another's private state of mind. Two months after the trauma and loss of loved ones, both Max and Victoria are in dire need of a bit of harmony in their lives. Fate has an odd, funny sense of humor, that's for certain. If it takes similar minds to cause a rivalry, can these similar hearts create harmony?(Post-Save Arcadia Bay ending set two months after Chloe's funeral. Switched between Max's POV and Victoria's POV. *If you ever wondered what would happen if Max and Victoria were stranded together during the holidays at Blackwell, this is the one for you.)





	1. Bump in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, folks!
> 
> I'm Cas and I do not own anything related to LiS. I played it back in 2016 (while finishing my theatre degree) and have recently went over the game again, but with the "Save Arcadia Bay" ending. I found myself pondering, wondering, and creating these scenes in my head of Max Caulfield post-storm. With the help of my wonderful, creative best friend to BETA read, we bring this story to you. All pairings are fair game to me in LiS, but I wanted to find out more about Victoria Chase. I've become quite interested in the Victoria/Max dynamic.
> 
> This is my first piece for LiS. I hope you let me know your thoughts. I'm a sucker for writing Max Caulfield.
> 
> *TW: I use heavy language/mature themes.  
>  **FYI: POV SWITCH WILL BE BOLDED/LABELED.**

_The sky was a dark, soulless grey. Max shivered against the beating of hail, rain, and wind. She stood outside the Two Whales Diner and watched the patrons inside eating calmly and happily, the warm golden light from the diner’s booth lamps shining through the windows. Nobody seemed to realize what was happening right outside the diner. Max pushed forward and a powerline fell in her path. She let out a call when she saw the working and tired face of Joyce Price._

_“Joyce! Get everyone away from the windows…there’s a storm!” Max called, her hands cupping her mouth._

_Nobody noticed. Nobody heard._

_Max clambered over the fallen powerline pole towards the diner’s entrance. Her hair soaked, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes._

_“Joyce! Joyce, PLEASE!” Max cupped her mouth again. Her hands were warm and sticky. She pulled them away and looked down, realizing they were a dark red._

_Looking upward, she saw the sky was filled with enormous whales, all sliced open and raining this red rain. Their lifeless bodies whipped around above her in the high winds and hail. At the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blue and looked back towards the diner._

_It was a blue head of hair._

_“CHLOE!” Max screamed. “GET OUT OF HERE!”_

_The tall, pale, tattooed girl stood on the front step of the entrance to Two Whales, her hair was not viciously whipping around her face, she was not coated in red rain. She was as still as a statue, eerily pristine against the occurring storm. Her back was to Max._

_“CHLOE! GO!”_

_Max held her breath as the girl turned slowly around. Still every hair on her head in place, the red rain seemed to miss all parts of her. Her eyes…her eyes were so different. Why did they look like that?_

_“Chloe…?” Max quivered as she approached closer to the steps of the diner._

_Max looked down at herself. Her blue tank top and checkered boxer shorts were sticky and saturated in the red rain of the whales. When she looked back up at the untouched, still Chloe, a loud and sickening moan call came from Chloe’s wide, outstretched mouth. Why were her eyes like that?_

_Max felt tears well up in her own eyes, she stretched a soaked, slick red arm out for Chloe to take. Another load moan, this time booming from the sky and the body of a limp, enormous whale hurtled into the Two Whales Diner._

_Max shrieked._

 

* * *

 

 

 ** _{MAX}_**  

**WEDNESDAY: Early Morning**

Max’s eyes pulled open desperately searching, looking for the diner, looking for Chloe. She jumped upwards and stumbled and found herself falling, her face smacking a sharp edge before contacting a cool, hard surface. It was dark and she felt a soreness pulsating in her left cheek, with a radiating heat spreading on her face. She panted heavily as she lay sprawled out on the cool surface of the floor, realizing her clothing was soaked. Max’s heart began to pound even harder as she frantically felt the dampness of her skin.

_Red rain, red rain, red rain…_

She squeezed her eyes shut before forcing them open and attempted to take deep breaths as she slowly began to recognize her surroundings.

 _Lisa plant is over there…acoustic guitar with stickers on it is over there…_ her hand reached out gingerly and she felt the leg of her bed. _Bed is right here…_ her hand moved to the right and she felt cool wood. _Nightstand… right here…_

The pulsating of her face continued as she reached and gingerly touched her left cheek bone just below her eye. Her fingers came back slightly slick. Her heart raced again.

_The fucking nightstand right here… Ow, Jesus…_

She slowly pulled herself into an awkward sitting position in the darkness of her room. A dull jab in her left butt cheek caused her to growl, pulling an orange bottle of pills that were hidden under the bedsheets she pulled down with her during her flight from the nightmare.

She sadly rolled the bottle in the palm of her hand, staring at the label…

“Stupid Zoloft,” she huffed, setting the bottle back up onto her nightstand.

Once Max could ground herself more into reality, which, if she was honest, she couldn’t tell if the nightmares were worse, or the real life she was living, she buried her face into her palms.

_Apparently, blood happens in both…_

She saw her tiny digital clock tick to 4:08 a.m. on her desk. The screensaver of her desktop computer bounced back and forth between the four corners of the screen. Her curtains were billowing gently in the icy, Oregon pre-winter winds. Sometimes, she got so hot when sleeping because of her nightmares that she was leaving her windows cracked open to keep her cool at night. She shivered slightly as she reached up to touch her cheek. The pulsating of her face didn’t seem to die down, nor much of the bleeding.

“Dammit,” she breathed defeated, flicking on her warm, glowing lantern lights that were strung meticulously across her photo wall where her bed sat. A few photos were missing, creating awkward blanks where they used to hang a few months ago. Max couldn’t bear to see those photos during all the waking hours she spent in her room, so she did what any person would do; she hid them in an old shoe box underneath her bed. Though Max brought them out often, she found herself sometimes sleeping with the box of photos to the side of her when she dozed off clutching them.

Sliding on her rubber sandals, she grabbed her room key and headed down the quiet hallway of the girl’s dormitory at Blackwell Academy.

 _I’m tired of these fucking nightmares._ Max thought as a tired hand reached up to tap the sore cheek. She had no idea how she looked, but in the wake of the nightmare, her cloudy head couldn’t care less.

Quietly pushing open the door of the bathroom to not wake Kate who was sleeping in the room across the hall, she noticed the heat and steam from someone taking a shower. The smell of clean floral hit her nose, with cool hints of a minty scent that she inhaled welcomingly. Then, remembering the time of night, or morning rather, she realized how odd it was that someone was showering at four in the morning. They must have been in there for a while, as the mirrors were fogging up. Maybe it was someone on the early practice sports teams, Max shrugged.

She attempted to be quiet as she didn’t want to disturb the person in the shower and quietly attempted to unroll some paper towel for her rapidly swelling and weeping cheek. Taking a lazy hand, she wiped the steam away from the mirror with a cool palm.

_Holy crap… That’s what I look like. It looks like I got into a fist fight with my nightstand._

Her blue eyes looked darker than they used to, her brunette hair, a wavy, frizzy bed-ridden mess, and her skin was so pale that her freckles were basically screaming “ _LOOK AT US!_ ” around her face. Although, Max thought, nothing compared to the angry red cut on her left cheek that looked like it was going to bruise underneath.

Unexpectedly, the sound of the single shower stream stopped and she heard a quiet sniffle and a sigh from behind her in the stall.

 _Oh, god._ Max thought, as she didn’t want to be seen by anyone looking like she did. She froze and debated either taking a handful of dry paper towels to wipe away the crusting blood on her face back in her room (maybe she could use a dash of water bottle water or something) or acting as nonchalant as possible to wipe away the mess of her face in the bathroom mirror, pretending nothing was off about it. Standing in front of the mirror frozen, she gripped the corners of the sink, a wad of forgotten paper towels in one hand. Her hair covered her face when she looked shyly down as the door squeaked open behind her.

A silhouette draped in light pink approached from behind. As the sound of shuffled shower shoes against tile ceased, Max saw from the steamy reflection in the mirror on their sudden halt, they were just as surprised as Max was that they weren’t alone in the bathroom at four am.

Max was still frozen and realized it was probably too late to run out of the bathroom like a weirdo, so she stayed at her sink, gripping the edges.

A watery, yet cool voice came from behind Max, “Wha—what are you doing, Caulfield?”

It was unmistakably Victoria Chase. Max should have known by the expensive smelling shampoos and body soap scents and the light pink robe in the mirror’s reflection. Max found it odd however, as she knew Victoria wasn’t necessarily a morning person at all, as she could be heard whining about it in the bathroom before the first class of the day most mornings. She wasn’t on any sports team, last Max remembered.

“It’s a public bathroom, Victoria.” She shot back, a bit aggressively.

Victoria scoffed from behind her, “Obviously, dweeb.” She heard Victoria shuffle around to the sink to her left. Max felt an awkwardness fall over the room.

She carried her neatly organized shower caddy to the sink and pulled out a golden looking bottle of something or other. Victoria’s soft, pink hand elegantly squirted two dabs onto her fingertips before massaging her face carefully with it.

Max smirked a bit and figured Victoria probably spent a good amount of time in front of a mirror. She thought about saying something like, “ _aren’t you too young to be slathering anti-aging cream on your face?”_ but realized she was too tired to bother.

Victoria continued her routine, watching herself in the steamy mirror. Her silky, rather short robe was damp around the neckline from the shower and Max wondered why people preferred expensive silk robes over the comfy, fluffy big ones. If she remembered correctly, Victoria had at least three colors. The thing was so short, Max figured only Victoria had the right type of legs to be confident in something like that, she thought as she took a quick glance.

 _Why do you even know about her robes, weirdo?_ Max thought to herself, shaking her head.

Victoria finished up massaging the lotion on her face and spoke into the mirror, “Take a photo, perv. It’ll last longer.”

Max blinked a few times and shot her gaze back to her own foggy mirror.

Victoria smiled coyly at herself in the mirror and added, “Haven’t you seen a girl in a robe before, you big lesbo?”

“Good one, Victoria.” Max mumbled dryly.

_The heteroqueen of Blackwell really stuck it to me there. Wow, so creative… I really look fucking terrible. And then there’s the perfect Victoria Chase…what a funny parallel. Maybe she takes secret showers all the time so she can spend countless hours making sure she is the epitome of Blackwell Beauty before anyone sees her._

Max noticed that Victoria wasn’t facing her own mirror anymore, but was leaning her left hip against the sink, arms crossed staring directly at Max. Her eyes were piercing through her, she could feel it.

Victoria, stiff, motioned to her own face vaguely before asking Max, “So what’s the deal with the face?” she asked, surprisingly, without iciness.

Max instinctively turned her head to glare at Victoria, but when she did, she noticed Victoria’s hard, piercing stare falter for a moment. She couldn’t tell if she should say something rude in response or say something in a joking manner. Before she could decide, Victoria steeled herself again.

Max quipped back, “You know…I just felt like getting into a fight with my nightstand in the dark.” She was too tired to be mean.

Max could tell that Victoria wasn’t expecting this answer and raised a brow. After a few moments, her lip quivered upward in interest.

“Fight with a nightstand?” she asked before making a soft ‘ _hmm_ ’ noise. The blonde almost seemed…amused by this, but apparently Max looking like a bloody-cheeked mess was humorous enough for her.

Max let go of her vice grip of the sink and moved the wad of paper towels into her other hand. Victoria’s gaze followed Max’s movements and she heard a ‘ _tsk_ ’ noise escape her bathroom companion.

“What?” Max breathed.

Victoria looked as if she was reeling through different responses in her head, her eyes staring at the angry, red cheek on Max’s face. Suddenly, Max felt self-conscious about it. Turning away from Victoria’s studying gaze, she flicked on the sink and began to soak the wad of paper towels to wipe the dried blood from her face.

“You don’t want that to _scar_ , do you?”

Sighing loudly enough for Victoria to hear, she shut off the water and wrung out the paper towels. “Honestly, Victoria…my face is fucked as it is, so I don’t see the big deal anyway.”

Before she knew it, Victoria was to her left side, in her personal space, with her hand gripping Max’s that held the soaking wet paper towels. Max stammered, taken aback by this.

“I know you say you don’t give a shit or whatever if your face looks fucked up, but… it’s not sanitary to clean it with just water and gross paper towels. People use those after they go to the bathroom.” Victoria’s pointy nose scrunched with disgust.

Max wanted to argue simply so she could wipe the blood away and crawl back into her mess of a bed, but Victoria’s strong grip of her hand held it just where it was.

Max sighed, “What else would I even use anyway?”

Victoria raised both of her brows in humorous shock. “Good Lord, Caulfield. Hasn’t anyone taught you how to take care of yourself?”

Max’s ears grew hot and she pulled her hand away from Victoria’s, towel water droplets hitting and rolling down her bare leg. Her eyes scanned Max’s sleepwear and she must have decided not to bully her on that too.

Victoria’s demeanor clicked over and she stammered out, “I mean, your face routine.”

Max looked back at herself in the mirror and Victoria’s side could be seen with her reflection too. She watched Victoria’s reflection scan Max’s injury and she could have sworn she saw a ghost of a frown. It wasn’t disgusted like she would assume, but more of…an empathetic pull of her mouth.

Victoria cleared her throat and straightened her back. She dropped her arms from their crossed position over her chest. She stood suddenly taller at Max’s sink, still facing the brunette.

“Will you stay here for two minutes?” Victoria asked in a slightly sassy manner.

Max scrunched up her face in confusion as to why she would do that. Victoria saw her facial response and rolled her eyes accompanied by a dramatic sigh.

“I don’t want to have to look at a scar on your nerd face for the rest of the school year. So…just chill for a sec and I’ll come back with something better than freaking soggy paper towels.”

Before Max could protest that she’d rather go back to her bed, the blonde had already high tailed it out of the bathroom, leaving a wafting scent of flowers and mint behind her. She glanced at Victoria’s forgotten shower caddy full of her expensive cleansers and lotions and razors. Max figured that maybe Victoria was playing a mean prank on her; like she would wait to see how long Max stupidly would wait for her in the bathroom. Though, with the caddy still on the sink to the left of her, she kind of doubted that.

Max stood there in disbelief for the two minutes or so that Victoria was gone.

_Was…that Victoria being nice? Well, not nice, but nice in a Victoria way?_

The girl’s bathroom door swung open and Max couldn’t help but notice how forgiving Victoria looked outside of her expensive outfits and icy jewelry. Her face was bare, clean, and soft. She looked natural without the expensive makeup and her cheeks held a natural brushing of rosy pink. Her lashes were long and naturally darker than her light blonde pixie cut. She obviously had… _well,_ an appealing figure that was draped in a thin silk robe. Her legs were stupid long. Max reluctantly could see why guys found her to be the most beautiful girl at Blackwell…if not also the bitchiest.

Victoria was in front of Max by now and she snapped her fingers near Max’s face.

“Hello, Earth to spaced out hipster.”

Max shook her head gently, “What?”

An exaggerated sigh, “I was telling you that we need to clean it with _this_ ,” Victoria held up a sleek looking bottle of cleanser, “and then we will make sure it is moisturized with _this_ ,” she held up a weird looking arm of a plant that was oozing something slimy. “Lastly, we will put this little Band-Aid on it to keep it protected from the gross shit.” 

If Max was honest, she had no idea there would be so many steps to take care of a dumb cut and bruise. Suddenly, the idea of wiping away the blood and going back to bed sounded better and less complicated.

Victoria stood there waiting for Max to begin. Max felt her palms get clammy. She eventually, clumsily, if she was being honest, managed to wash her face with the clean smelling soap Victoria pumped into her hand. Victoria guided her a little impatiently by telling her to not scrub too hard and make sure the wound was clean and rinsed. Logical enough.

Max looked up at her dripping face in the mirror through one squinted eye that collected water on her dark eyelashes.

_I guess it does look a lot less gruesome._

Max reached blindly for the roll of paper towels before Victoria barked at her.

“ _NO. Do not_ dry your face or wound with that gross shit, I already told you that.” Victoria pulled a soft beige looking towel from underneath the arm of her silk robe. Max looked to the towel and saw the initials _V.C._ stitched elegantly into it.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll get my _gross_ face on it?” she asked a little incredulously. Max knew if she had a towel like that, she wouldn’t use it on her wound.

“Jesus Christ, Max. Just take the fucking towel.” Victoria shook the towel in front of her face.

“You could at least say ‘please’.” Max joked, grabbing it. She gave Victoria one last look for approval and continued when Victoria rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Max began to rub her face on the towel and to nobody’s surprise, it was the softest thing she’d ever touched. It smelled good too, like a field of flowers, to again, nobody’s surprise.

“Caulfield… _what_ are you doing?” Victoria’s voice went up in pitch and distress.

Max felt her cheeks grow warm wondering if Victoria caught her taking in a sniff of the soft fabric. She felt the towel get pulled from her grasp and looked to see Victoria giving her a fierce raise of her brow and upturn of her chin.

“You can’t _scrub_ that thing on your cheek like a child. You _pat_. Oh, my shit, you are incredulous.”

To Max’s complete shock, or horror, Victoria took matters into her own hands. Carefully, she brought the towel close to Max’s face before making eye contact with her. Was that her waiting for approval?

Max didn’t object so Victoria began, quite gently, dabbing the rest of the dampness from her face. Max looked up through her eyelashes at Victoria’s studious and serious face. Victoria’s eyes darted to Max’s and a slight pink flush on her porcelain cheeks appeared.

“Bet you’re really glad you don’t have all these freckles like me,” Max scoffed, still wondering at the blonde’s flawless cheek-skin.

For some reason, she was nervous having someone who would gladly make fun of her on a moment’s notice be so close and honestly… helpful. Max didn’t know what the hell she was doing regarding cleaning up a slice to the face, plus the nightmare that caused her to jump from her bed like a scared cat exhausted her entire brain. If she really had it her way, she would have scrubbed her face with a paper towel and passed back out in her bed.

Victoria gave a short snort. “Honestly, Caulfield…” She looked like she was debating something again. “the freckles…they suit your whole…thing you’ve got going on.” She pulled away from Max and handed her the towel when she was done.

Max felt herself give a gentle, tired smile. Maybe Victoria and her could get along.

Victoria caught the look on the shorter brunette’s face and stammered, “You know that whole hipster…nerd shit thing.”

_Annnnd it’s gone._

Victoria turned her back to Max and grabbed her other supplies that she set down on the sink earlier when she returned. Picking up the weird plant chunk, Max gave her a worried look.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a fucking baby. Haven’t you ever seen fresh aloe before?”

Max reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, feeling a bit ridiculous. Of course it was aloe.

“The only kind I’ve seen and used came from a green bottle in my mom’s fridge,” Max shrugged.

Victoria pursed her lips together in amusement. Something Max had rarely seen from her.

“Is that what…”

“…poor people do, yes, Victoria,” Max offered.

She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat looking between the aloe in her slender hand to Max’s cut.

“I’m just going to do this myself, as I know you’ll probably do it incorrectly if I hand this to you.”

Max had no idea what she was going to do with the plant.

“Are you going to make me like, take a big ole chunk out of that thing and eat it?” Max asked, mostly being sarcastic.

To Max’s complete shock, Victoria let out a humored, singular laugh before composing herself and going back into that perfect posture mode she mastered.

_A perfect, steely front…_

“No, you weirdo.” Victoria took a slender pinky and dabbed at the oozing end of the aloe arm and brought it towards Max’s sore left cheek.

Max instinctually held her breath. This was a very weird experience. Being in the bathroom with Victoria Chase at four in the morning, having her assist with the cut to her face. Warren probably wouldn’t believe it.

The surprisingly cool slime of the aloe touched her hot cheek and she almost let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t grasp yet how much the stupid injury pulsated. Victoria’s face was bunched up in serious concentration as she gently spread enough aloe over the cut. Victoria’s green eyes met Max’s for half a second and they didn’t seem angry or repulsed, just calm. Max’s heart was thumping a bit higher of a rate than usual. She hadn’t had anyone in her personal space, besides her parents and Kate, in two months. It was strange.

 _Weird things happen at four am_ , Max decided.

What truly stupefied Max was how Victoria had no repulsion of Max’s injury touching her perfect hands or Victoria’s obviously custom and expensive embroidered towel. She didn’t peg Victoria as someone who was totally in the know on how to fix injuries. Maybe she shouldn’t be making certain assumptions about people right away, even if it’s somebody she hadn’t gotten along with. With this thought, Max’s curiosity began to grow enormously and she couldn’t help but ask.

“Why do you know how to do things like this? Injuries and stuff, I mean,” Max almost whispered, for Victoria was pretty close to her face and talking at a normal volume felt weird.

“…mmh,” Victoria looked like she was deciding on whether to let Max in on whatever her answer was. Her green eyes met Max’s again and Victoria made a tilting motion with her head before dropping eye contact. “Well, Nathan would…” her voice gave the tiniest of quivers. She gently closed her eyes and inhaled, regaining all previous composure. “Nathan would get… facial injuries, along with other things. Fights. Arguments with his father, Sean… that type of shit.”

Max almost felt her jaw drop but she regained her cool quickly. Until this moment, Max hadn’t really considered the emotional impact that Nathan’s arrest and sick photo-ops of drugged girls would have had on his best friend Victoria Chase. Assuming she would have been there for him when he was at his most mentally troubled, Victoria was probably Nathan’s true, singular friend. Maybe Victoria had a whole other mysterious nurturing side to her that she never let anyone see, besides Nathan. The same Nathan Prescott who resided in jail for the murder of two old fellow classmates of Victoria Chase’s: Rachel Amber and…her _Chloe._

_A flash of a dark, menacing whale carcass flashed into her mind’s eye. Blood sticky, heart pounding, an eerily blue flash of still hair in the middle of a storm…_

“Holy fuck,” Max breathed out before she could stop herself. She gripped the side of the sink tightly, attempting to come out of the flash.

Victoria backed away curiously and wrapped the aloe in some type of plastic wrap and set it back on the sink. She gave Max a quick and suspicious glance.

“Yeah, well…Sean Prescott has his own demons, too.”

Max was confused for a moment as her head usually streamed her off topic, but she figured that Victoria’s response was to Max being outwardly shocked at Nathan being physically abused. She felt a little guilty for already knowing that information due to the week before the storm that never destroyed Arcadia Bay.

Victoria started messing with a tiny first aid kit. She pulled out a paper wrapped Band-Aid and pulled it open. Max couldn’t tell what kind of mood Victoria was in. She seemed suddenly tired. Tired like an eighteen-year-old student with baggage would be. Like things haunted her too. The thought was almost like a lightbulb over Max’s head.

_Victoria Chase must be going through the shit too… Who else would shower at 4 a.m. for no logical reason?_

“Hey, Victoria…” Max weakly started.

The blonde was focused, pulling the backs of the Band-Aids off and tossing them into the trash. She approached Max again, this time not as vulnerable, further away. She made a noise that sounded like a “ _hmm?_ ”

“I’m…sorry about Nathan.” Max felt her palms sweat again. It was like dipping back into those memories that never, technically existed. She was pretty sure her underarms began to act up out of anxiousness. Max fucking hated Nathan for what he did. Regardless, the dude had loved ones who were thrown for a destructive curve when hearing about what he had done. She could imagine how she would have felt if the places were switched.

Victoria’s shoulders seemed to soften and the air lost its tension. Victoria Chase, Queen Bee of Blackwell Academy, had let her mask slip for an honest moment. She took a step closer to Max, analyzing her cut, figuring out the right way to stick the Band-Aid. Max could feel Victoria’s warm, quivering breath on her face as the blonde placed it securely over the cut on Max’s cheek. Her hand hovered on Max’s face for an instant.

“Don’t be. I’m…sorry, about your friend. I-,” she inhaled sharply and pulled her arms back to her sides, the silk of the robe flowing with her. “I should have fucking _known._ ” Victoria’s gloomy face caught Max’s soft, but shocked face. As quick as her walls began to quake, they were once again up and steeled. “But _whatever._ ”

Max was certain Victoria used a “ _whatever_ ” whenever a conversation got too uncomfortable or real for her. Still, the show of vulnerability truly shocked her. Max had no idea Victoria thought that way about the situation…like she had guilt about Nathan doing what he did, when there wasn’t much Victoria could have stopped logically. Max recalled the solemn and serious demeanor Victoria carried throughout _Chloe_ ’s funeral. Max found herself wondering why Victoria even showed up, and even today, two months later, she still wasn’t sure as to why.

Victoria slipped her tongue over her tensed lips and looked down and away. Max could have sworn it was in a shy manner. The blonde turned quickly and gathered up her shower caddy on the other sink and the extra supplies. Max wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be quiet or say something.

“Don’t forget the ice,” she stated over her shoulder. When Victoria headed to the bathroom door exit and slipped out without another word, she was certain Victoria had enough of her.

The beige towel caught her eye and realized that Victoria left the embroidered towel on the sink and grabbed it hastily, exiting the bathroom.

Max saw Victoria down the hall, pulling her room key out of her caddy. She almost called for her, but realized that would be stupid as it was early as hell. She did this quick, silent jog up to Victoria’s door before she turned her key to get inside. Max glanced at the white board to the right of Victoria and noticed the rude, red hand written message of:

_VIC SUX DIX! ;P_

Max realized she wasn’t supposed to notice it, so she pretended she couldn’t see it as she held out the towel to the taller blonde. Victoria sighed, almost annoyed, and turned her head to look at Max looking goofy with the towel.

“Just…keep it or whatever. You can sell it. It probably costs more than your baby Gap wardrobe.”

Max felt a pang of hurt on that comment and her face must have shown it because Victoria’s eyes changed. Max had to admit that Victoria was probably right about that, but as of lately, Max had taken to retiring her old, childish looking wardrobe. Those cute graphic shirts labeled “peanut butter and jam!” with a jelly jar holding a guitar weren’t appealing to her anymore. Once they made her smile and “aww,” but now…Max just didn’t see the humor or charm in it. She’d taken inspiration from _Chloe_ with the tones of color in her wardrobe: greys, blacks, navy tones…whatever would hide her in the background of her own life. Her mother questioned her about the wardrobe shift once, deeming it to be an “angsty” change. Maybe her mother was right about that, but Max kind of liked the look of thrifted, dark denim jackets over black jeans nowadays.

“Wow, you’ve got that kicked puppy look down, Caulfield.”

Max gently waved the towel in front of Victoria again in response, ignoring that painfully accurate analyzation of herself.

“I don’t want it,” she stammered out and clicked open the lock of her door, slipped inside and shut it in Max’s face.

Max rocked back and forth in her rubber sandals in front of Victoria Chase’s locked door feeling ridiculous.

_I’ll wash it and just give it back to her later I guess._

Climbing back into her bed, she switched off her glowing string lamps and snuggled against her childhood bear. Her clock read 4:56 a.m. She yawned and felt the tug of the Band-Aid on her skin and winced, almost forgetting it was there. Her eyes felt heavy as she quickly drifted off into a restful sleep for the first time in a week.

 

* * *

 

 

**_{VICTORIA}_ **

**WEDNESDAY; Same day: Morning**

 

_Victoria Chase… Blackwell Academy’s own fucking perfect vision of beauty and power._

The pixie haired blonde observed herself in the front camera of her own smartphone. She laid atop her dorm bed, barely covered in her pink, silken robe, messing with the front of the liquid fabric. Her skin was buzzing, anxious…she just wished she could fucking fall asleep like normal.

Raising the phone higher, she checked out a few angles of herself. Chin pointed down, sharp and serious. One eyebrow raised in a coy manner. Head tilted just so. She let the curve of her chest peek from underneath the robe in a way that stated it wasn’t intentional… _probably._

_If this doesn’t get him rock hard…well, then I don’t know what will._

For effect, she pursed her lips.

_Yep._

She turned on the flash and took the shot. Examining her work, she stared at it. Her skin was smooth, her chest looked damned good, and her hair…

_Well, fuck._

She quickly deleted the snap. Her hair was a mess, out of place on the left side. Plus… her one ear looked enormous. Victoria lifted the phone over her head again and posed herself perfectly, smoothed down her hair, and took another photo. The flash blinded her eyes for a moment. She blinked, examined the slightly scandalous selfie, and gave a satisfied lift of a brow. This would certainly work. Hovering over the blue send arrow, she paused.

_It’s Juliet’s boyfriend… I mean, how trashy can I get?_

Steeling her face, she hit the send button with her thumb and watched as it sent. Zach Riggins had a thing for Victoria first, not Juliet. So, it wasn’t a big deal, she justified. She caught a glimpse of the time, 5:15 a.m. Locking her phone, she tossed it to the side as she stared up at the ceiling. Her room had a gentle flood of light from the strings of LEDs that she carefully placed on the walls around her posters next to her bed. Her skin tingled and her eyes were refusing to stay closed for the past half hour.

She huffed and pulled herself into a sitting position and shrugged off the pink fabric. It pooled into a milky pile at the floor of her bed and she laid back down. She slept better in the nude anyway. After a few minutes of fluffing pillows anxiously, turning and shifting, she covered her eyes with both hands and began to breathe in and out slowly; the breathing exercises her therapist back home taught her.

_In for eight counts…hold for five…release for ten… Relax, Victoria._

Her mind flashed to a scorching image of Nathan being escorted off campus in handcuffs, his hands caked in a browning coat of that Price punk’s blood, his face downcast and horrified. She saw his eyes burning, welling up red. Victoria Chase and Nathan Prescott had made eye contact following the fatal gunshot after the entire school fled the halls and classrooms to watch David Madsen hold him down, his flailing body pinned by the knees of the security officer on the area between her friend’s shoulder blades. He was shrieking and crying; if Madsen wasn’t holding him down…Victoria was almost sure he would have hurt himself. Nathan flailed and screamed on the floor outside of the girl’s bathroom, and when he looked up and locked eyes with Victoria, the wind was knocked right out of her. Taylor noticed Victoria wobble in her heels within the crowd surrounding Nathan and Madsen. She grabbed Victoria by the elbow and held her up, giving her some grounding. His eyes plagued her throughout her days, even two months later.

_He just needed fucking help._

Victoria rubbed her eyes harder and sat up again, throwing her comforter off. She had already let herself get inside her own head in the form of a nightmare tonight, featuring that fucking scumbag Jefferson. Before this entire mess, her visions of Jefferson were of him between her legs as she was sprawled out on top of Max Caulfield’s desk. It used to give her such a sexual jolt to imagine them fucking on the retro-nerd’s seat, just to have Max sit in it the next day. It drove her mad.

She felt her stomach churn in sickness. It was revolting, sick, the things the papers said he had done. She could easily have been a target…and maybe she was for all she knew.

_Nathan wouldn’t let him do that to you, even if they were some vile minded duo…_

Victoria’s hands began to quake. She thought back to her ridiculously late evening shower after her night terror. She had grabbed her shower caddy and almost ran into the hall, full-nude, before slinking herself into her robe and rushing out of her dorm room. Her eyes were leaking tears, not just from a general ache of Nathan being arrested, but from fear.

In this night terror, Jefferson had her tied up like marionette figurine, naked. He snarled from behind his camera, holding a wireless camera remote, taking lewd photos of her drugged out of her fucking mind. Victoria had not been aroused by this one bit. It turned her skin ice cold. Flashes went off, blinding her. His breath hot in her ear as he grinded his erection through his pants against her bare leg, snapping another photo with his remote.

Victoria clutched her stomach and raced to the trash can by her desk, spilling out watery sick. She felt lightheaded and brought her bare legs to her chest and rocked back and forth, keeping herself near the trash can in case anything else wanted to come up.

_In for eight counts…hold for five…release for ten…_

And then, to make her life even better, the stupid Max Caulfield strolled her nerd ass into the bathroom early as hell in the morning and surprised Victoria by standing there, hovering quietly over a sink. Victoria couldn’t believe her awful luck, first the night terror and then there was Max, clutching the sides of the sink so tightly that she noticed her knuckles turn white. When Victoria caught sight of Max’s swollen, bloody cheek, she felt…honestly, kind of terrible. Which was odd for her, but Nathan did go and shoot up Caulfield’s childhood best friend. Sure, the brunette joked about being in a fight with a piece of furniture, but Victoria caught a glimpse of terror behind her dark, blue eyes. Victoria was going to go and mind her own god damned business, spreading lotion on her face, but Caulfield kept staring at her. There were rumors, not started by Victoria (for once), about Max being queer; that Chloe was probably some fling, and it made Victoria feel even worse about it all. Max was a fucking zombie, so sad and small, and scared the first few weeks after the funeral. Courtney kept trying to fuck with the nerd, but Victoria would yawn and act bored whenever her group started talking shit about the hipster. Her own personal insults about Caulfield were limited nowadays as Victoria had other shit on her mind. It made Victoria’s guts buzz when Max had stared at her from the other sink, clutching the sides, knuckles white.

Then she decided to spurt out some rude comments, like Victoria always did, about taking a photo and then she went and called her a lesbo. Sure, it was below the belt, and the way Max’s cheeks grew red, Victoria couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t that far off on that one. Still, the comments weren’t necessarily justified, and she couldn’t keep her fat mouth shut when she observed the skinny, sad looking nerd grab a wad of gross bathroom paper towels to clean the wound on her face. Victoria didn’t necessarily like Max, but she didn’t want the girl to end up with an unflattering scar for the rest of her life that interrupted the spread of freckles along her cheek. It would just be wrong to let Max destroy one of her only good features.

_So what if I helped the dweeb out? Nobody saw it happen and nobody would believe Max anyway if she decided to tell everyone about Victoria Chase delicately cleaning her wounds after her valiant battle with dorm furniture. It was a one-time deal._

She didn’t know how long she sat in a huddled ball near her trashcan, but the notification sound of her cell went off from her bed and she noticed the ceiling light up from the glow of her phone. She looked down at her trashcan and sighed, gathering the bag delicately and tying it tightly to avoid spillage. She stood carefully and threw on her robe and slid on her slippers. Bending down, she grabbed the ears of the trash bag and left the room to toss it into the garbage chute down the hall. When she returned, she checked her phone:

 **ZACH:** yo yo yo! hey hottie! just woke up to go lift some weights ;) ur pic was hot to wake up to

Victoria sighed, suddenly disinterested in the whole thing. She still felt the tingling of her skin, the crawling of her insides. She checked the time and saw that it was 6:15 a.m. There was still a while before her first class started and she needed to keep her mind preoccupied. Some of her best ways she knew how was to go shoot photos or run. Seeing as the daylight break was weak, grey, and gloomy, she decided a run was a better option. Maybe the sweat and sore muscles would free her mind of the vivid images that flashed up here and there. Never mind the fact that she was already clean and pristine, two showers a day never hurt anybody.

Changing quickly into matching Lululemon sports bra, running tights, and a jacket, she slipped on a pair of Nikes and made her way down the hall and out of the dorm. She started slowly, an easy pace to make sure her stomach wouldn’t do something ridiculous out in public.

As she rounded a corner and traveled toward the front steps, Victoria’s brain flashed to the image of Max being held up, by who Victoria assumed was her father, before being placed into the backseat of a dinky car. The normally inquisitive, happy, and soft face of Max Caulfield was completely gone. In its place was a pale, sunken-in, void shell of the girl who sat behind her in photography. The Vortex groupies surrounded Victoria as she attempted to make her best bored face, gossiping and making jokes about Max crying. It felt uncivilized. Victoria ignored their quiet jeers and she couldn’t help but stare at the whole mess that was happening ahead of her. Her eyes met Max’s and her heart dropped. It was all fucked up. When the small car chugged away out of the lot and down the road, Victoria had turned to the majority of the Vortex Club that had claimed the stairs when she heard one of the guys saying something.

_“The fucking dyke’s ghost is going to haunt the girl’s bathroom forever now.”_

Most of the group laughed. Victoria noticed that she, Dana, and Taylor did not.

Another responded back, _“Max was like with Chloe, right? I mean everybody is saying they had to have been a thing by the way she held her dead body and cried. Courtney said the loser must munch box. Too bad…she kind of has that weird new girl hotness. Like, honestly, I’d let her suck my dic-,”_

Now, Victoria didn’t know _why_ she said something, but the ghost of Max’s face was burned into the back of her eyes.

_“Shut up. Nathan’s going to fucking prison and you’re all talking about Lamefield being a dyke. Get some fucking class.”_

It had shocked all of them. They all looked at her like she had grown two heads. She swallowed and gave them the best of her ‘don’t fuck with me’ glares before turning on her heel and pushing past a shocked Taylor and an offended Zach.

Victoria panted and shook her head before she picked up her speed, attempting to literally run from the memory. She felt beads of sweat drip between her cleavage and form under her hairline. The cool rush of breeze felt insanely good against her face and she continued around into the parking lot.

When Victoria began to cooldown from her run, she decided to head back to the dormitory. It was about 8:15 a.m., her gold watch told her, and the sweat let her know she had a good work out. When she reached the hallway to her room, she walked quickly, not wanting to be stopped by anybody. However, much to her dismay, Courtney opened her door and gave Victoria a pitiful grin. Victoria slapped on her best icy pout when Courtney gave her a wave.

“Hey, Vic! I got your history homework done!” She looked like she wanted Victoria to give her a treat for being a good girl.

Victoria, still breathing heavily, held her hand out to Courtney.

“Oh, um, here! See you in class, girl!” Courtney placed the packet into her open palm, waved and went back into her room.

Heading down the hall to her own room, a brown messy head of a bob caught her eye, standing in front of Victoria’s door. Working herself up to say something bitchy, she halted as she watched Caulfield take the edge of her boring, everyday hoodie and wipe away the rude red message someone had scribbled in dry erase marker earlier on Victoria’s room board. Caulfield pulled off the cap of a marker and instead began quickly drawing the image of what looked like a bird.

Victoria heard some chatter and doors opening down the hall and she realized it would look weird if people saw Max Caulfield drawing on the room board of Victoria Chase. Victoria inhaled deeply, not really wanting to pull out some shit this early, but her image depended on it. She peered back over her shoulder and watched a few of the girls whisper and point at Max down the hall.

_Oh, for god’s sake, Max. Maybe I shouldn’t have let you think I was being kind earlier._

Victoria found it oddly pleasant of Max to be doing what she was doing, but nonetheless, the hierarchy was there for a reason, even if Victoria loathed it a lot of the time.

She walked up to Max, who was lost in focus at the board, and Victoria cleared her throat and iced her face to look intimidating.

“What _exactly_ do you think you’re doing?” she asked, glaring daggers at the back of the girl’s head.

Max tensed, obviously caught, and she slowly turned around to face Victoria.

“I couldn’t stand looking at that gross message…” Max caught Victoria’s daggering eyes and gulped. “I’m sorry…I probably shouldn’t have--,”

“—You’re goddamned right, Lamefield. Now, please. I’m sweaty and gross, and I don’t need to see you drawing weirdo shit on my board this early in the morning. Now, _move._ ” Victoria waved Max away from the board and thought about erasing it.

The blue bird was in flight and, if Victoria was being brutally honest with herself, wasn’t that shitty of a drawing at all. She felt her heart jump.

_Is Caulfield really being this fucking nice?_

Victoria saw Max’s face go pale as her blue eyes looked Victoria up and down, probably realizing that she had just worked out after taking her odd, middle of the night shower. Max was probably thinking about earlier this morning and it made Victoria’s stomach uncomfortable.

“Listen,” Victoria began barely above a whisper, so nobody down the hall would hear. “Just because I fixed your face doesn’t mean we’re best friends or something. It’s probably in your best interests to leave me the fuck alone, Maxine. I’m…I’m no fucking good to be around.”

Victoria watched Max’s face go from hard, rival-like, to a vague pity. Her blue eyes seemed even more intense with the red, sore looking cheek, and Max’s eyes met Victoria’s quickly and they seemed to look right into her, analyzing, wondering, doing the usual Max Caulfield shit.

Max leaned closer to Victoria, her eyes no longer challenging, but were suddenly holding a wise gleam that Victoria had never seen from her before. The brunette’s hair brushed Victoria’s cheek as she got close, that was how ballsy the hipster got, before whispering next to the blonde’s ear:

_“That’s a damn shame then, Victoria.”_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very long word document filled with future chapters saved to my MacBook. (Hah!) If this was something you liked or will want more of, let me know. For those of you who want straight-to-fluff...Well:
> 
> I like keeping everyone on the edge of their seats, so I'm apologizing now, at the end of the first chapter. Their dynamic is interesting and complex and it may take some time for them both to open up and know one another.
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	2. A Little bit of Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria plans a Vortex Club party before Fall break to keep her hold on the group. Max reluctantly goes and meets with Blackwell's new counselor, Miss Flores. Both girls get a peak inside the other's mental state. 
> 
> (Post-Save Arcadia Bay ending set two months after Chloe's funeral. Switched between Max's POV and Victoria's POV as they discover that nightmares never seemed to go away, even when life forces onward). *This will be a slow burn, realistic piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I'm back for chapter two. I really appreciate the kudos and comments left on chapter one. Keep them coming, I love talking with you. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
>  
> 
> **TW: This chapter mentions suicide. Be cautious if this is a trigger for you. Love y'all and stay safe.**

_**CHAPTER TWO:** A LITTLE BIT OF THERAPY_

* * *

 

_**{VICTORIA}** _

**WEDNESDAY; _Same day_ ; Afternoon**

 

The Vortex Club simply needed to have a Fall Break party. Victoria knew that if she didn’t at least try to put something together—people would start talking. The only problem with throwing together a party was that all Vortex Club gatherings now had to be monitored by a faculty member and any parties the group hosted had to be accompanied by Principal Scott himself. A huge total fucking bummer.

_That’s why they’re not going to know about this one…_

Victoria felt herself smile, given the ingeniousness of her idea. Everyone would be leaving Friday night to go back home for the week-long break so it had to be a last-minute invitation to the private bonfire party, tomorrow night, to avoid any unwanted chaperoning of the whole thing.

The group chat of Vortex members stayed lively after Victoria advised she was putting something together, all members suggesting idea after idea to Victoria about where to host a get together. Besides, it would be Thirsty Thursday tomorrow, as her college city dwelling friends would say, so why couldn’t Blackwell have a Thirsty Thursday?

 **ZACH:** Yo, bet we could use Prescott’s abandoned barn!

Victoria peered down at the text as her stomach performed an unusual twist and she immediately typed back a response before the other dimwits jumped on his idea train.

 **VICTORIA:** No fucking way. Can’t associate the club with Prescotts def not right now. Plus it’s fucking creepy there Zach.

What she really wanted to say was, ‘ _the idea of going to that barn where the Prescott bunker was built and those girls were taken to by my best fucking friend makes me want to barf._ ’

 **T-BABY:** OooOOoo how about a beach bonfire? Get smashed on the beach and we can all just walk back? Curfew isn’t until 11:00 at night!! ;D

Victoria considered this to be their best option, even though the idea of walking drunkenly back to her dorm in Prada heels sounded terrible. She couldn’t let the group think Zach’s idea of getting plastered in a murder barn to be the better option. Besides, Taylor’s idea was pretty decent, if she had to say so herself.

 **VICTORIA:** Good thinking Tay. No cops will bother us. Too busy working on other things. It’s settled. I will send out invites to the lucky party-goers and the secret meet up location. Keep a look out in your emails.

A few excited responses and a plethora of emojis buzzed through her messages. She sighed in relief, realizing that there would not be any pushback this time, as a few members had gotten ballsy and began trying to take over Nathan’s old spot as Co-President. Victoria preferred to keep it as just herself. Hell, it was a lot to handle on her own, but Nathan didn’t do much planning when he was in the role anyway. The Prescotts did most of the funding, Victoria did most, (if not all) of the planning. She was good at shit like that. Victoria knew not many tried to object to her ideas as the Chases were the ones solely funding their club after Nathan was gone and the Vortex Club knew that if they wanted to continue partying somewhere, that Victoria had the final say in every matter.

_Guess that’s what money gets you…fake fucking friends._

Well, Nathan wasn’t a fake fucking friend. Nathan was a lot of terrible, awful things, composed of years of mental instability that was worsened by his father, Sean Prescott, and made to be things he didn’t necessarily want to be. Even though her friend was serving time for what he had done, Victoria couldn’t help but still recognize the childhood they had together. That was what kept her heart from turning stone cold against him because of his actions. Their wealthy, important families always had ties with one another, ergo, creating and forming ties between Nathan and Victoria. Her parents wanted them to end up together—it was sick really. They always expected Victoria to date boys from affluent backgrounds. Her sharp faced, fair-haired mother making jabs at Victoria’s single status. She couldn’t imagine how they’d react if she brought home a guitar playing, long haired, poor boy… or something even more sinister…

_Maybe that’s why I ‘don’t date’._

She scoffed at her own private joke. Victoria could never really figure it out. There were plenty of boys she knew that would immediately dump their current girlfriends to be with her. There were plenty of boys that were attractive enough and wealthy enough. Nearly all of them failed to hold her interest. If she had to be honest, it wasn’t entirely the guys’ faults. The idea of having someone get close enough to her, to see under her icy, vapid façade and peer beneath, nauseated her. It turned her stomach so badly that she physically couldn’t imagine pondering any further than that. Victoria Chase spent her whole life being exactly what everyone wanted her to be. She became a polite, lofty, beautiful young artist on the rise for her parents. She became a strong sister and soft-yet-firm second mother for Nathan. She became the hot, out-of-your-league head bitch of Blackwell Academy for the Vortex Club.

_Who am I for me?_

Victoria firmly wiped away that insanely dangerous train of thought and began fervently typing up the email on her phone to send out to the members of the Vortex Club for the bonfire Thursday night. She scrolled through her contact list and clicked worthy names.

_Hayden Jones…Taylor Christensen…Courtney Wagner…Zachary Riggins…_

Victoria’s thumb hovered over a name.

_Max Caulfield._

“Okay, she is definitely not coming.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Victoria knew the last place Max Caulfield could be found was at a Vortex Club drinking party. Still, it was unusual how her thumb hovered there over her name. Maybe Victoria felt kind of bad for her. Max hadn’t been seen at any gatherings of any type in the last few months. All the nerd did was hide away in her room or Kate Marsh’s Christian pad.

_Are they a thing?_

Victoria felt her brows furrow at the thought. She considered the idea—Kate and Max together. Obviously, Max wasn’t fully straight, and the verdict was still out on Kate. It couldn’t be entirely impossible. She wasn’t sure how Kate felt about same sex dating or marriage, given her churchly background. Yet, everyone noticed and whispered about how smiley Kate got when Max Caulfield strolled up to her in school. Then again, the girl didn’t have many other friends other than a few Sunday Bible study groupies Victoria saw in the dorm hallway here and there.

_Victoria, leave Kate the hell alone. You’ve done enough to her for a lifetime._

The intrusive thought startled her and she attempted to steel herself, continuing the scrolling of the list of students and carefully selected the ones invited. She chewed the corner of her lip.

_So what if Kate and Max probably make-out during their little tea dates?_

An image of Kate wrapped around Max, two steaming tea cups left forgotten on a desk burned through her mind. Vortex Club made jokes about that too. As if they hooked up instead of drinking chamomile tea.

_Why do you fucking care, Victoria? Gross._

Was Victoria Chase really getting bothered by the idea of Kate Marsh having somebody when she didn’t? Was Victoria bothered at the idea of Kate Marsh being with _Max Caulfield_?

_Maybe I should invite Max…the girl has like two friends._

“Hey, Vic! I’m so excited for tomorrow. Who are you inviting?” A voice came from behind her in the hallway.

Victoria jumped and wheeled around. The smiling, excited face of Taylor waited for her answer. The blonde stood there in the hallway with her hand on her hip.

“Oh…well, the usual. This isn’t going to be a big thing, Tay. We should be careful. We’re lucky Vortex Club is still even allowed after everything that happened.” Victoria answered truthfully. As long as no idiot spilled the plan or got so wasted they couldn’t find their way back to the dorms, everything should work out fine.

“That’s true. Between you and I, I think Vortex Club is going in a better direction anyway. Everything is…different now.” Taylor did her best to give a casual wave of her hand.

This surprised Victoria. There were a few disgruntled members that complained about the lack of partying and status of the club as of lately. With Nathan gone, Victoria couldn’t muster all that energy to do both all the time. She had better things to do and bigger things to deal with than picking on Alyssa for being heavy or picking on Kate for praying before taking a bite of her sandwich. The Victoria from a few months ago would have laughed in her own face if she had learned how wimpy she was being.

“What do you mean?” Victoria narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the blonde. She was cautious around everyone, even her close friends. What could be that different?

Taylor raised the corner of her mouth into a knowing grin. Then her eyes changed into something sadder, like a melancholy strike hit her.

“It was getting old, you know, being the worst people on campus. I mean we all love a good gossip story, but that video—of Kate,” she began, avoiding eye contact with Victoria.

Victoria felt her cheeks grow hot. She knew Taylor had some guts even mentioning the whole ordeal out loud to her in a public hallway. After the school found out Kate was on some suicidal thought train, Victoria demanded the Vortex Club shut up about the whole thing. At the time, her explanation went along the lines of: “ _Nathan doesn’t need us talking about that shit_ ”. Her intestines gave a wriggle and she couldn’t prevent the cringed look from spreading across her very face.

_That video was by far, the worst fucking thing you’ve ever done._

Taylor inhaled bravely before glancing back up at Victoria. “It really…made me feel gross. I don’t know what the fuck we were thinking.” Taylor’s eyes were far away, probably back to the night the video of Kate was recorded while she kissed up on a bunch of guys.

Victoria inhaled slowly, attempting to ground herself while peering around the empty hallway before responding. She never really gave thought as to how the other girls felt about the whole incident once they all buried the memory of doing such a thing. It was like the entire club did their best to suppress the awful thing they had done to Kate and the video they spread after Victoria made the demand for that particular gossip to stop. Sure, Marsh was a Bible loving loser, but that was no justification for recording what they did…and then to spread it like wildfire…

“She was drugged. If I had fucking _known_ that…maybe that’s no excuse at all.” Victoria let the thought fall on dead air.

Taylor reached out and grabbed Victoria’s free hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. The blonde studied Victoria’s glazed over eyes before coming to a sudden realization after searching Victoria’s face.

“But _somebody_ deleted every link to it,” she raised a well-manicured brow before continuing quietly, “you were the one who got it all scrubbed clean from the internet…I wondered how all the links and uploads disappeared so quickly after Chloe Price got shot and you lost your shit at that meeting. I thought that maybe it was because you didn’t want Nathan to get into more trouble once the pieces fell into place.” She brought her voice down again to a whisper, “Although, I know the real reason you did it—because it was the _right_ _thing_ to do.”

Victoria nearly stumbled over in her heels. This was dangerous; Taylor figuring out that Victoria had been the one who worked endless hours going through all sites that contained the unfavorable video of Kate Marsh. Luckily for Victoria, she had plenty of computer and code knowledge, even though she’d never actively say so in fear of looking like an absolute fucking geek, and with it she used countless sleepless nights messaging moderators of weird porn sites, link hosting sites—essentially tracing any code she could to rid Kate Marsh’s face in that way on the internet. Now, Taylor went and pieced it all together.

“It was fucked up. I mean seriously, what else could I do? She was on suicide watch for days!” Victoria didn’t mean to raise her voice so passionately. Nathan had helped create the mess, Victoria filmed it unaware of the entire situation and put it up on the net for the world to see. She damned well had to get rid of it.

_Always cleaning up after Nathan’s messes…_

She felt a panic raise to her throat, like she had to defend her personal reasoning in deleting the video. Kate Marsh shouldn’t have been the one wishing she was dead and gone. If anyone deserved that agony, it was herself. Kate Marsh never would have maliciously recorded Victoria wasted.

“If anyone should have to jump off a roof given the awful things they did, it should have been _me_. I recorded it and posted it and spread it like a fucking virus all around.” She said it so quietly and viciously, her eyes felt hot with the threat of tears.

She felt dirty, like the two showers she had already taken today had done nothing. Victoria knew she said too much. She probably alluded to her mental state a bit too accurately than she meant to. Before she could turn away, Taylor wrapped her arms around Victoria’s shoulders and held her tightly. Taylor felt warm and open and Victoria couldn’t help but let a few stray tears fall onto her friend’s shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t allow it and that nobody should ever see her this way, but in the moment, Victoria didn’t care. She hadn’t been hugged like this in months.

Taylor’s warm voice was inches from her ear. “You did the right thing, Vic. Everyone would agree. I mean we can all be huge assholes sometimes, but we’re not without empathy. Nobody wanted Kate Marsh to… _you know_.” Taylor gave Victoria’s hand another reassuring squeeze.

Taylor was so fascinatingly intelligent and put together. Sure, the girl sucked at photography, but had talents elsewhere. The blonde spent a lot of her social time putting on this ‘dumb-hot-girl’ air that there were times Victoria had forgotten her friend had an overwhelming amount of intellect. Taylor’s GPA was a 4.2 at Blackwell Academy. She had an academic scholarship so of course Taylor wasn’t an idiot and of course she’d piece together that Victoria had been the one to get rid of the video.

If Taylor decided to tell everyone that it had been Victoria scrubbing the video away, the school would not only be gossiping again about Kate Marsh drugged up and making out with random guys, but also talking about Victoria Chase going soft. More importantly though, Victoria knew Kate didn’t deserve to have that be rehashed into the school whisper-gossip mill. Kate Marsh shouldn’t be put in that place again just because Victoria was trying to fix a terrible, disgusting past mistake.

A wet sounding squeak of shoes reverberated down the hallway and Victoria found herself pushing Taylor out of the hug from years of habit. Her parents were not affectionate people, seeing it as a weakness. Both girls whipped around looking oddly close to each other, their hands still enfolded. Down the hall walked Max Caulfield exiting a classroom with that annoying science nerd Warren. He bumped his shoulder gently with hers, laughing to her about something. Both pairs froze when they realized it was only the four of them staring at each other from across the hallway.

Max’s line of sight drifted to Victoria’s. The blue-eyed brunette’s swollen, bruised cheek was evident even from where Victoria stood. She wondered if Max’s face ached and if she had iced it at all like Victoria had warned her to do. _Obviously_ , from where she stood, it looked like Max failed to do so. Max gave Victoria a feeble shadow of what looked like a grin before drifting her attention to Victoria and Taylor’s hands. The grin faltered quickly.

Victoria looked down at her hand folded in Taylor’s and back up to the two nerds down the hall. Her cheeks went pink with embarrassment as she pulled her hand quickly from Taylor’s, straightening her posture, and attempted to blink away any stray wetness that stayed there.

“Uh…Max,  _let’s_ go the other way to the cafeteria,” Warren said, wrapping his right arm around the brunette’s skinny shoulders. He glared possessively down the way at Taylor and Victoria before quickly turning them both away to go the opposite direction.

“Do you think Max is _with_ him?” Taylor whispered, attempting to clear the air of the last conversation. She had to know Victoria wouldn’t speak on it anymore.

Victoria grimaced at the thought, “Oh, god. Hopefully not. She could do better than _that_.”

She caught Taylor frowning at the corner of her eye, which was a little bizarre. Normally, Taylor didn’t have much of a problem digging at Caulfield. Victoria then realized she probably shouldn’t have said whatever she just let slip out.

“He seems nice, Vic. The nerd thing is kind of cute, I guess. I shouldn’t judge. I’m a fucking nerd too.” Thankfully, Taylor gave her a joking grin.

Victoria found herself offering a weak smile back.

She missed talking with Taylor. Victoria, however, did her best to avoid private conversation as much as possible these days. All the other members or friends and acquaintances always took any private time they had with her to ask her about Nathan, the Prescotts, or Jefferson. It made her so nervous to be in any private, open conversation with people for gruesome, nightmarish flashbacks always seemed to creep to the front of her vision. It spiraled her into hiding away, whether that be through meaningless hook-ups with no chatter, diving her nose deep into her laptop to edit photographs, or smoking privately and discreetly away from prying eyes. Victoria didn’t necessarily want to connect, it hurt too much. Especially as of lately.

“ _Whatever_. I don’t want to talk about that science ass Warren kid. Let’s get to class. I’m sending out the invite to those lucky few.” Victoria said, giving herself a cozy amount of personal space away from Taylor. She made a quick, few taps on her phone before sending out the emails.

They both walked down the hall towards their next class. Victoria’s vibrato seemed to be settling back in after being rattled minutes ago by Taylor’s prying. She needed to keep her shit together so she could show everyone at this gathering tomorrow that she was still fully capable of running a fun Vortex Club. Nobody else was going to do it, or could for that matter.

“I’m still always fucking doing everything. Let me know if you ever want to actually pitch in, Tay.”

The girl beside her sighed. “The bitch is back so soon, eh?” Taylor teased.

Although Victoria knew it was a tiny, playful dig, it still struck her deeper than Taylor probably intended.

“The bitch always comes back,” Victoria murmured dryly.

* * *

 

 

_**{MAX}** _

**WEDNESDAY; Same day: Early Evening**

 

“You _know_ , Maxine…You’ve been through a very, very hard last two months and it’s okay to accept the help that this academy is willing to provide to you.”

The woman lowered her eyeglasses to the very edge of her nose, her dark eyes piercing Max, examining her closely. Max wondered how the heavy purple framed glasses didn’t slide right off the edge of the counselor’s nose.

“It’s _Max_ …” she mumbled, slumping lower into the moderately comfortable chair of the new counselor’s office.

Blackwell Academy was made to hire an additional counselor late September after the deaths of two academy students. The student body was shocked, especially after the incident with Chloe in the girl’s bathroom. Suddenly, the appointments to see the more senior school counselor were booked within one day. The new principal, Principal Scott, hired on a new therapist to accommodate for the influx of students seeking a form of therapy. Obviously, Max decided to avoid penciling in her name on the help list.

Students were rattled by Nathan’s murderous rampage with Jefferson. Everybody knew Nathan Prescott was a bit on the “needing professional help” side, but not many would have suspected he’d pull a gun out on a punk-rock drop out inside of a girl’s bathroom. Many students were also disturbed to find out about the famous teacher-photographer, Mark Jefferson, was discovered to be a perverted psychopath. The Rachel Amber posters could still be found under the stacks of more recent posters pinned up over them, or forgotten in a faded crumple beneath a bush near the parking lot. They were all gut-throttling reminders of the day she and Chloe found her tarp-wrapped decaying form beneath the trash in the junkyard in that other timeline. This timeline, David Madsen had been given a mysterious tip from an “unknown” source.

_Death and decay. Death and decay…_

Max squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to erase the memory that threatened to overwhelm her senses. Nostrils burning, she could almost smell rotting flesh and oily dirt… like she was there again.

That entire week haunted her nearly all hours of her day…and all hours of her R.E.M. sleep for that matter. What troubled her most however, was the piercing and heart throttling sound of a ringing gunshot, bouncing off the grimy tiles of the girl’s bathroom. Followed by Nathan’s manic, panicked screaming.

“Maxine?”

Max opened her eyes and tried to ground herself. She couldn’t look at the counselor right away so she took a glance around the office. She inhaled deeply, attempting to look more put together than what she felt. She didn’t want the counselor to go poking at her to the point where she’d end up in a loony-bin.

_Get it together, I’m fine…I can’t breakdown here with her._

A comforting display of wildlife paintings decorated the beige walls of the office. It popped of color and warmth. A bouquet of flowers spilled over a glass vase on the wooden, glossy desk of the counselor. At least this lady seemed like she wanted to try. She gazed at the gold-plated name tag that rested next to the vase of sweet smelling flowers: Miss Flores. Max huffed to herself, wondering if there was a statement the counselor was going for.

“Now, I know you’ve rejected Mr. Becker’s request for you to schedule some time during the week to visit his office, but I’m hoping you and I could get to know each other…”

Mr. Becker, the other counselor, was a balding, monotone man with a steely grey office space. Max didn’t care for it and avoided Mr. Becker’s constant emails requesting she come down to his office for a chat on the situation. Ms. Grant had pulled Max into a corner after science class one day and nearly begged Max to at least visit with the new counselor, Miss Flores, because ‘who knows, maybe she can help’. Max hadn’t been turning in projects and there weren’t many more strings her favorite science teacher could pull for her. The deep, worried look of Ms. Grant made Max promise to go in for one appointment and see how it went from there. Every time a teacher looked at Max, it was as if they saw the trauma, but when Max had nodded and said, “ _fine, I’ll go to one and see how it is_ ”, that seemed to lift a shadow from the face of Ms. Grant. Not to mention her parents were thrilled upon receiving a text Max had sent that went along the lines of: ‘I set up a time to see the new counselor _jsyk_.’

Miss Flores was patiently watching Max and realized that she wasn’t necessarily paying much attention. Max cleared her throat and attempted to seem a little less rude. Her eyes drifted back to the face of Miss Flores.

“…We don’t have to talk about what happened that school day, if you don’t want to. We can start somewhere easier.” The counselor offered warmly.

Max’s brow raised slightly, “We _don’t_?”

Miss Flores gave her a warm smile and pushed her purple rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose with one pinky. She leaned forward at her desk, “No, we don’t.”

Max thought hard for a moment. If she didn’t want to hear about the day it happened, then what could she want to hear from Max? Mr. Becker wouldn’t leave her alone about “ _talking about that day_ ”. Max would make a beeline in the opposite direction anytime the balding man came around a corner…she’d also ignore his emails. Not delete them, because that made Max feel way too guilty, but she left them in her school email’s inbox folder to be dealt with some other time. Even if Max had no clue when that time would be.

Max thought back on her parent’s faces when they met her in the parking lot of Blackwell Academy a day after the incident in the girl’s bathroom. They had scrounged up enough cash for a rental car to drive out for the long drive from Seattle, Washington. Max knew her parents’ old beater cars wouldn’t make it for the long drive. She stayed home with them for a week after the death of Chloe Price per Principal Scott’s orders. That was probably the right idea.

When Max had seen the soft faces of her mother and father, all the tears, sorrow, and wails she held in once she left that school bathroom the day previous, exploded all at once. Her father nearly had to carry her back to the rental car. Her mother followed closely behind, clutching Max’s terribly packed duffle bag. She spaced on packing any underwear in it, causing her mother to make a late-night trip that night to a drugstore to pick up a pack for her. She rested her pounding forehead on the window in the backseat of the rental and saw a few students stare at her from the front steps of Blackwell. A crowd gathered around the steps, most of them Vortex Club members, and while her father gently patted her knee after climbing into the rental car and had asked something like, “you okay, kiddo?” Max had locked eyes with the Queen Bee herself who was surrounded by minions. Max wasn’t sure if it was the pounding of her head or the watery tears in her eyes, but she could have sworn that Victoria Chase gave her a soft, sad smile from the steps of Blackwell. It was almost apologetic.

Max moved up from her slouched arrangement in the seat across from the desk of Miss Flores.

“So…what would we even _talk_ about?” Max asked suspiciously to answer the counselor’s previous question, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the bruise on her face.

It seemed everyone wanted to hear the story about what happened with Nathan Prescott and the gun in the girl’s bathroom from Max’s mouth. Obviously, that was not something she was up for.

Miss Flores gave Max a brief smile before closing a clip folder binder. Max knew this was a gesture of “off the record”.

“Whatever you feel like discussing. If you want to…rant about mathematics or how bad your morning was… that’s fine with me, Max. I don’t expect you to want to talk to me about something that was obviously very traumatic the first time you step into this office. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t want to right away.” She gave Max a soft raise of a dark, smooth eyebrow and grinned. “So how about we start here…”

Max held her breath, worried about what the proposal would be.

“…I saw that your birthday is September 21st? That would make you a Virgo it seems.”

“A Virgo?” Max stated back, confused by the conversation.

Miss Flores gave another warm smile. “I’m a Pisces, born in the middle of a storm in February. My Birthday is February, 18th.”

“Okay… uhm, that’s cool. I’m not really sure what that means but…”

Miss Flores let out a short chuckle. “Just a way to get to know a bit about each other. I can see the Virgo in your photographical work. You have a strong eye for detail.”

Max shrugged, “Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

“—and a deep sense of humanity.”

She gave the young counselor another shrug of her shoulders. Miss Flores was a rather beautiful woman. Nearly all the straight guys on campus lusted after her tight skirts and soft, but knowing eyes.

Miss Flores smiled again before gently tapping the wooden desk with a manicured fingernail.

“Okay, Miss Caulfield. I hope we can meet each other again later this week… If that’s okay with you, right before Fall Break. Like I hinted at before, no pressure, just checking in with each other.”

Max traced the front of her teeth with her tongue, thinking. Miss Flores wasn’t horrible. She seemed rather genuine and didn’t pressure Max into spilling her guts out. She thought about having to tell her about the whole scenario down the line and felt her palms begin to sweat. She couldn’t spill anything about the storm, or the multiple other times she heard the splattering sound of her friend’s body coming into multitudes of different deaths that week, before she rewound time back and all.

_Geez, Max…when did you become a big baby about things? Mom and Dad would be so happy to hear you’ve spoken to Miss Flores…maybe the least I can do is sit in her office twice a week._

She sighed heavily and looked around the office again. A soft colored painting suddenly caught her eye. Max gently pointed to a watercolor painting that hung on the back wall of Miss Flores’ office.

“What is that painting of?” she asked quizzically.

Miss Flores turned in her office chair and gazed to where Max was pointing. She turned back and met Max’s line of sight. She gave an easy smile.

“My sister painted that for me in one of her University art classes. She’s studying to be a painter. She called it,” Miss Flores seemed to be searching her memory, “Morning of the Doe.”

Max felt her throat clench up, but a warm, safe rush fell over her suddenly.

_Morning of the Doe, huh? Real subtle there, Fate._

Max met Miss Flores’ eyes, for the first time, confidently. She gave a weak smile, “Alright. Later this week?” Max asked softly.

Miss Flores gave her a gentle chuckle and nodded her head, “Yes, let’s set it up for Friday during your free period, is that okay, before you go home?”

 _Obviously, something wanted me here in this office and I'm not doing anything during free periods nowadays anyway._ She stood up out of the moderately comfy chair and nodded strongly.

“Alright, Miss Caulfield, I’ll see you then.”

Max didn’t meet her eyes but nodded again, showing Miss Flores that she heard. Miss Flores came around the desk and opened the office door for Max.

“One more thing,” Miss Flores said softly, looking her over closely. “I need to know if you’re in…” she motioned with a firm nod toward Max’s bruised, red cheek, “…any type of trouble.”

Max absentmindedly reached up and gently touched her own cheek. She met eyes with Miss Flores and shook her head no. “No, I’m not. Just a _serious_ klutz and that’s the truth.”

Miss Flores watched her carefully and decided Max was telling the truth. “Take care and if you need to chat, send an email or come knock on my door, Miss Caulfield.”

Max turned to face Miss Flores. “It’s Max…if that’s okay. Miss Caulfield sounds a bit weird to me.”

Miss Flores raised a corner of her mouth in slight surprise. “ _Max_. No problem and thank you for coming in to meet me.”

_Jesus, this lady is so genuine…_

“Uh, yeah…” Max muttered out before slipping through the opened office door, cradling her messenger bag in her right hand. “Thanks for…not asking about it too much.” She offered back.

“Friday?” Miss Flores peered at Max over her purple eye wear. It was like Max could feel the counselor scanning her.

“Yeah, totally,” she responded back assuredly.

Max made a right hand turn out of the office into the small hallway of the staff offices and watched her feet carry her onward down the green carpeted floor.

 _Miss Flores at least seems nice…_ she thought while lifting the strap of her bag over her head.

A sharp thud into her left shoulder caused her to stumble backward and snap her head upward.

“Watch where you’re _going_ , hipster,” an icy voice whispered.

Max’s eyes met the cold pair of green irises that belonged to none other than Victoria Chase. The tall blonde gave the brunette a glare before brushing past her down the hall.

Max didn’t look back, but continued the opposite direction. She heard Miss Flores give Victoria a warm hello and the eventual latch of an office door closing.

_Victoria is seeing Miss Flores: School Counselor?_

She figured someone like Victoria would never need someone as lowly as a Blackwell school counselor. Didn’t her rich parents have a millionaire psychologist that catered to the Chase’s every need or something? She figured all rich families had some type of psychologist on their beck and call and the Chases seemed like the type of family that could afford one. Maybe Victoria was in there talking about her boy troubles or whining about the Vortex Club drama. Max huffed at the idea of Miss Flores pretending to be interested in the high school drama of the Vortex Club.

Max thought back to the early morning and of Victoria helping her with her face injury, due to her stupid clumsy, sleepy ass after the nightmare. Her hand traced the delicate Band-Aid given and placed on her by Victoria.

_Oh, leave her alone, Max._

Max’s pocket suddenly vibrated and she sighed. She wasn’t one for texting normally, especially after the incident. A slew of random classmates started sending her messages on social media and via text message when the whole school found out that she was in the bathroom when it occurred. Kids came out of the woodwork to post their “support” on her Facebook page and Instagram. It was kind of sick how much her follower count on the famous photo app went up after the whole thing. She hadn’t posted a single thing for months anyway so she couldn’t figure out why they all even bothered.

She fished for her cell in her back pocket and pulled it out. A bubble notification let her know that Kate had sent her a text. Max hesitated for a moment. Kate was wonderful, really wonderful in fact and it made her feel guilty that Kate essentially appointed herself as Max’s therapist while at school. Yeah, of course her and Kate were friends, but ever since the incident, Kate would send her more messages than normal. She knew Kate was constantly worried about her. Her thumb hovered over the bubble.

_Oh, just text her back, you wimp. Don’t want to worry Kate… she’s been so sweet._

Max sighed and clicked the text box to open the message.

 **KATE:** Hiya, Max! Saw some cute bunnies on my way to my last class and thought you would like a snap shot. Have a nice evening. I’m always around if you need me! :) Let’s hang out before Fall Break!

Attached to the text message was an insanely cute, but badly framed photo of three rabbits munching on grass. It actually made Max smile. Kate Marsh was her own type of angel.

 **MAX:** They are sooooo cute! Thx Kate!

Max sent the text and looked at her messages. Scrolling up, she noticed quite a bit of effort on Kate’s part and very little on her own. She wanted to see Kate before Fall Break commenced on Friday evening, and she had been avoiding Kate most of this week. She grimaced and decided to add another message:

 **MAX:** If you are free later we can brew some tea (^.^)

Max didn’t have to wait long for the reply:

 **KATE:** Oh, for sure! Around 6:30!?

Max didn’t have anything to do for the rest of this Wednesday evening, it was after four o’clock and Max didn’t really do much other than hide in her dorm room after classes anyway.

 **MAX:** Yes pls

 **KATE:** See you then! :D

Max trudged her way across campus to the cafeteria and bought a cappuccino and a blueberry bagel and brought it up to her room, somehow nearly ignoring all the sad stares she was still receiving from classmates. After a short walk, she reached her end of the hall of the girl’s dormitory. Max found herself glancing across the way at Victoria’s closed door and noticed a new, rude message scribbled on Victoria’s whiteboard in red angry letters:

_“SLUT QUEEN of B-WELL lives here!! SEND NUDEZ”_

Max frowned. The bird drawing she quickly drew had already been erased and replaced by something way more sinister. People really lack creativity around here.

She hesitated at the door to her room, staring at the message, her fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the handle. She remembered the harsh, flushed look of Victoria’s face when she walked up behind Max and caught her in the middle of changing the rude original message on Victoria’s board. Max was shocked to see her breathing a bit heavier than normal, cleavage busting through a fancy grey sports bra, glistening with the dampness of human sweat. Victoria honestly looked different then, like a real, breathing, sweating, and feeling creature. She liked it, in a weird way. A different Victoria for a fraction of time. When Victoria had stood there, towering over her crouched form, Max had seen her putting in the extra effort to be a bitch, like it exhausted her to have to be that way in that moment. And Victoria never erased the bird, even after confronting her about drawing on the board.

Max peered back at the board and rolled her eyes, doing her best not to care.

_Serves her right…probably. Well… maybe not._

Max turned her back and reached for her key inside her messenger bag. While fumbling with the bag and juggling her cappuccino in the other hand, she dropped the white paper bag her bagel was in.

“Ugh… _seriously_?” she muttered to herself. She knelt and set the steaming paper cup to the side and flung the bag strap from her shoulder in search of her hidden room key. The sound of the unmistakable clicking of expensive heels could be heard behind her and she rushed to find her key faster. She didn’t really want to hear any insults from Victoria right now. She felt the coolness of the metal key and pulled it from under a few messy papers and books in her bag and in her haste to clear out of the hallway as quick as possible, caused a mess of papers and old tests to go scattering across the hallway floor.

“Fuck,” Max whined.

The clicking of heels stopped and Max slowly turned her head upward to see the slim blonde staring down at her only a few feet away.

Victoria’s cold gaze met Max’s anxious face and there was the subtlest of changing in their temperature. Max licked her lips preparing to say something about her awkward moment, but before she could, Victoria effortlessly bent down, adjusting her skirt as she did so, and began picking up some of Max’s strewn papers laying pathetically in the hallway between their doors. Definitely to Max’s shock.

“I, uhm… I…” Max began.

Victoria glanced at one of the tests that had fallen out of Max’s messenger bag during her struggle to find her keys. She raised a blonde brow and let out a frosty chuckle.

“I wouldn’t peg you as someone who would get a D- in our film study class,” she stated coolly. “I thought you were a fucking film nerd like your boyfriend _Warren_.”

Max felt her ears grow warm.

“ _Warren_ is not my _boy_ friend,” was all Max could muster back.

Victoria continued to pick up a few other of the brunette’s papers near her room door and ignored Max. Max watched suspiciously, waiting for Victoria to say another mean comment about her school papers or the slowly declining grades as of lately. Victoria stood and her own room board must have caught her eye as she glanced at it for a few seconds. Max held her breath wondering if Victoria was going to explode or take it out on her as she was a pretty pathetic, easy target now, hunched in front of her own bedroom door, picking up papers in front of Victoria Chase.

Victoria gracefully turned her head back to Max. She was steely and unreadable, right hand on her hip.

“ _Well_ …stop throwing your papers at my door, Caulfield.” She blinked a few times and took one timid step forward, holding a slender arm out that held a small pile of Max’s school papers.

Max slowly stood up straight after gathering her hot cup of cappuccino and bagel in a bag in one hand, and another sloppy pile of papers and her room key around her pink in the other. Her messenger bag was nearly tangled around her right arm with the room key and papers. Max glanced at Victoria’s paper offering and down at her own two hands.

“Oh…uh…” Max stammered.

Victoria rolled her eyes and huffed, slapping the stack of Max’s school papers against her very expensive designer skirt. She looked at Max incredulously.

“Oh, my GOD. You are a mess, nerd.”

She walked over towards Max and in the high heels, she had a good five inches of height on her. Max swallowed. Before she could say anything in response, Victoria expertly swept the cappuccino and bagel bag out of Max’s one hand while still holding the other stack. The blonde stood next to Max as if she was waiting. Victoria looked at Max and huffed again. Max was nearly stunned.

“Uh, are you going to open your door or just stare at me?” She nearly barked.

Max felt a jolt of will and was able to get the key off her pinky to unlock and open her room door. Once it was cracked, Max audibly gasped when Victoria shoved by her into the bedroom, holding Max’s things.

“Victoria! No, it’s really-,”

Before Max could finish her sentence, the blonde stopped dead, halfway into the room. Her eyes were wide and her lips pursed in a sour manner. The bagel bag swung between two of Victoria’s fingers. Max felt her cheeks grow red hot with embarrassment.

“You…live like this?” Victoria spluttered out. “This is _depression fucking city_ , Caulfield.”

“Thanks for the analyzation, Victoria.”

Around the two girls were piles of clothes, some clean, some dirty. It was honestly hard to tell sometimes. Generally, Max knew that near Lisa, her beloved plant, were the clean ones, and the clothes piling on her desk chair were half clean/half dirty. Max shook her head, realizing, in fact, she couldn’t tell anymore. On her desk rested empty boxes of Lucky Charms and Captain Crunch, the foods she strictly ate for about ten days or so when she could barely force herself to leave the safe zone of her room. Countless water bottles sat on her night stand. Her bed that was normally, decently straightened, was a bumbled mess, the fitted purple sheet completely removed from the lower left corner. Her one-eyed childhood bear lay like a victim of a crime scene atop a scattering of her old photographs of her and…

“I’m…shocked that it doesn’t smell like a boy’s locker room in here.” Victoria murmured as she lifted her hands near Max’s face. “Where do you even want these things?”

Max tossed her papers and room key onto her messy bed and wordlessly took everything out of Victoria’s well-manicured claws.

“You barged in here…I was attempting to warn you,” Max glowered.

Victoria continued to analyze the bedroom of Maxine Caulfield, her eyes scanning for all and every imperfection that lay before her. Her eyes rested on a few pairs of boxers in the corner. Max realized what she was looking at and quickly jumped in front of her.

Victoria reached up and massaged a temple dramatically. “Please, for the love of Christ, do not tell me you’ve had gentlemen suitors in this gross depression nest to hook-up.” Victoria didn’t look at Max for a response before continuing. She raised a brow deciding for herself, “actually, Blackwell boys would probably feel at home here.”

Max felt her hands begin to sweat from embarrassment. Not that she gave a shit what Victoria Chase thought about her…but having someone like Victoria Chase see the visual representation of her mental state these last two months since Nathan Prescott shot her best friend, was actually…mortifying. Max knew Victoria was clean and pristine. Her room looked like one of those fancy teen bedrooms they set up in designer furniture stores for people to “ooh and ahh” at, wishing they had the funds for such a cool dorm hangout.

Max had hardly let Kate into her dorm room since it all happened, worried that her soft, sweet friend would become even more worried about her.

Not knowing how to respond to any of that, Max thought back onto all the times she witnessed the more understanding side of Victoria during that week before the storm. If anything, Max would rather Victoria not spread rumors about her messing around with guys in her uber-messy room right after her childhood partner was buried.

“No, I haven’t been doing any of _that_ ,” Max said strongly back. “I sleep in those, so whatever. They’re _mine_.”

Suddenly, Victoria’s demeanor changed and Max could have sworn she saw the perfectly glossed upper lip of Blackwell’s Queen Bee quiver upward followed with the slightest raise of the corner of the brow. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

Victoria cleared her throat and finally turned to look at Max. Her face was the slightest bit softer than before.

“Well, I guess that’s your business.” She sounded bored. The blonde turned gracefully on her heel and made a move for the open door. Max turned to follow her to close the door behind Victoria. As she made to close it, Victoria placed her hand out and stopped Max. Her designer wrist watch glinting in the light of the hallway.

Max clenched her jaw waiting for another insult.

Victoria looked like she had something else to add, but her face was serious. The pixie haired blonde took a sharp inhale and clicked her tongue. “ _SO_ …I couldn’t help but notice your…grades have dropped more than usual.”

Max rolled her eyes and gently attempted to close the door with Victoria’s hand still holding it halfway open.

“That’s none of your business,” Max scowled defensively when Victoria’s hand gave push back.

Victoria ignored Max and continued, but she seemed to drop her voice in volume and harshness. “I was trying to say that I know you have that photography scholarship or whatever and I, being one of Blackwell’s brightest and best, also know that you, _Caulfield_ , have to keep all of your class grades at a C to keep it.”

Max glared up at her, waiting for Victoria to spit out whatever point she was trying to make, whether it was to make fun of her grades, or insult the fact that Max received a scholarship in the first place…her brain buzzed a thousand possible insults.

“Yeah, well…like I said, it is _none_ of your fucking business.”

Victoria’s high and mighty persona faltered for a moment before going ice cold again.

“Fine. Fail your fucking classes and get all F grades. I just think it’s a shame since you, _regretfully_ , have photography talent.” She hissed back into Max’s face. She turned sharply away toward her room across the hall.

Max didn’t know why she said it so harshly, but the icy, better-than-you persona Victoria plastered on rubbed her raw. Especially after she had been unusually kind this morning. She gripped her room handle tightly and glared at the back of Victoria’s perfectly in place, blonde-haired head.

“Why would you care? _I_ don’t even _care_.” Max’s voice, instead of sounding pissed and angry like she wanted it to, came out like a crack on the last ‘care’.

_You stupid, moron, Max._

Max watched Victoria glance at the red, angry words scribbled on her white board and her head tilted slightly. She stopped before opening the door to her room across the hall and said in such a quiet voice that Max wasn’t even sure that was what she said…

“ _That’s a damn shame then, Caulfield._ ”

She opened her door and let herself into her pristine bedroom without giving Max another word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I decided to write Victoria/Nathan as childhood friends as it made sense to me that their parents are affluent and would have similar circles. I don't think that is necessarily cannon, but it felt right.
> 
> Please leave any comments, questions, or concerns below! Or if you just want to recommend any really good Max/Victoria pieces in the comments, I'd love that too. ;)
> 
> I've got a lot planned for this piece so I hope you all will return in the future. 
> 
> *Anyone who can tell me where my sign-off phrase is from gets +10 house points!
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	3. Chloe's Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max takes a style hint from Chloe's old wardrobe. She gets an afternoon full of bad news and manages to piss off the Vortex Club all before Fall Break. Victoria finds herself a little flustered and impressed by Max during class time. Victoria receives an email that causes her to want to make bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! I'm back. I've been working on another LiS piece between taking breaks with this one. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please reach out to me in the comments with your thoughts. I'm happy to hear from everyone. 
> 
> (I'd recommend adding this story to your bookmarks as I may begin posting a bit more irregularly as my free time is changing).

_**CHAPTER 3:** CHLOE'S STUFF_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_{MAX}_ **

**FRIDAY; Early Afternoon**

Checking her clock on the corner of her cellphone, she gasped. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to get going and get ready for film class. Max had tossed her denim jeans to the corner of her bedroom floor as soon as she got back to her room earlier. She had her free period and she’d be damned if she laid on her bed in a pair of skinny jeans. 

Max had spent the last hour or so hidden away in her room during her free time to make herself cry again over the contents of a very particular box. It sat in her lap now, heavy, yet comforting, the lid sat forgotten at the edge of her bed. 

 _Oh, Joyce…_ Max breathed, her nostrils flaring, threatening to activate more tears from her eyes. Her brain threatened to drag up memories of _that_ nightmare of _The Two Whales_ diner. 

Max cradled the “ **Chloe’s Stuff** ” box in her lap like it was her first-born child. The box was given to Max after Chloe’s funeral. She remembered the swollen, glazed over eyes of Joyce as she held an old looking taped-up gift box out to Max. David hung in the background by his lack luster muscle car looking uncomfortable. Max knew he wasn’t very good at emotional goodbyes. Joyce had told her that in it were things that she knew _Chloe_ would want Max to have. Things that, Max knew, Joyce couldn’t bear to look at around the empty and now quiet room of her dead daughter. Max hardly removed anything from the “ **Chloe’s Stuff** ” box. It was almost like a museum display to her, a slice of Chloe, that if Max messed with too much, had the dangers of losing their smell, their importance. 

Reaching into the box, she felt the lapels of a very familiar broken-in leather jacket. It had fit her blue haired friend’s shoulders perfectly. Sometimes, after particularly bad nightmares where she appeared to Max, she would clamber in the dark, reach under her bed and pull the box out. 

_I miss you, asshole._

Max swallowed hard, not wanting those torturous flashbacks of Chloe demanding that Max make things right, both drenched in freezing, supernatural rain at the lighthouse overlooking the entirety of Arcadia Bay, to encompass her. 

 _Don’t do this right now, Max…_ she warned herself _._

Desperately, she pulled out the supple leather jacket and drew it up to her face. She gave a deep inhale, attempting to see if any scent of Chloe remained. To Max’s utter relief, the lightest plays of tobacco on leather greeted her. It felt like the first hug she received in months. Before thinking too long about it, Max set aside the box and stood up from her pouting position on her bed. She lifted an arm up and shrugged the jacket over her signature grey, zip-up hoodie. The jacket was surprisingly heavy on her. It felt good. 

Max walked over to peer at herself in her room mirror. Her bruise was a deep purple color now, it seemed to have also spread to her eye socket. Her freckles vanished under the coloring of the bruise. Her chin looked pointed, her jawline was more prominent. Max noted that she had lost weight since the whole ordeal. And her hair…well that was obviously, always a mess, but it had grown a bit wavier and longer to her surprise. She hadn’t spent too much time analyzing her own physical looks in a mirror. 

_This is what everyone is seeing when I zombie walk around campus?_

She realized that she hadn’t looked in a mirror at herself in over two days since the whole bathroom thing with Victoria. Max usually preferred to avoid the mirror at all costs. It was just better that way. She studied how the jacket fit in the reflection. It hung a bit loosely on her, obviously a size too big, but she didn’t look bad in it at all. The sleeves on her were a bit long, ending at the middle of her palms, but that was how Max liked a jacket to fit. The leather seemed to warm her, in more ways than one. She felt protected and brave. 

She peered at the clock resting on her desk and silently cursed to herself. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be cutting her walk time to class close. Running over and snatching her jeans from the floor of the bedroom, she slid into them quickly before tying up her converse and slinging her messenger bag over shoulder. She stopped dead in the middle of the dorm hall, her hands rubbing against the leather jacket, realizing she was still wearing the thing. She knew she didn’t have time to go back, so she continued in a fast walk. Besides, Max liked the feeling of it. It felt right. 

Max trudged along the walkway, head down, weaving in between the buzzing and excited students on their way out of Blackwell Academy for the Fall Break. Her black converse shoes were worn and comfortably broken into. Her usual grey hoodie, dressed over an Aerosmith tee, was beneath the leather jacket. It was a pretty suitable combination for the Oregon chill, her hoodie and Chloe’s jacket, she thought, as she flung the fabric of her sweater hood over her head. 

While walking onto her next class, she pulled her phone out. Her thumb scrolled down, finding the dreaded fucking email. The email that had surged her into a panic attack in the girl’s bathroom during Art History on Thursday. She had read it fifteen times already since receiving it yesterday in the middle of that class. A very no good email. It just so happened, with Max’s wonderful lack of giving a shit, the new man in charge, Principal Scott, took it upon himself to send off an email to Max regarding her marks as of the last two months. Her eyes scanned over the sentence that was bolded again: 

**Maxine, we hope that this warning will enable you to act accordingly to prevent the relinquishment of the artistic Blackwell Academy Scholarship on which you were granted. You must raise your GPA to an average “C” this semester to continue the benefits of the tuition funds.**

Max’s pulse quickened again, as it had every time she read through the dry and serious text. 

 _What the fuck am I going to do?_  

Her thumb hovered over an unopened email from Blackwell’s new school psychologist, Miss Flores. It’d been in her inbox for the last two days, a polite reminder to Max that she had to stop in to see her directly after film class. Sighing, attempting to convince herself to get it over with, she clicked on the email and replied a short: **_Thanks, Miss Flores, see you later today._** She sent it and exhaled.

Her phone began to vibrate in her hand suddenly and she sighed, wondering who could be calling her. A goofy photo that Max had taken two Easters ago of her father, Ryan Caulfield, popped up. She thought back to all the packing she still had to do for Fall Break before tonight. She reminisced about Thanksgiving and her Gran’s tasty cranberry stuffing. Snuggling the family dog, Benji. Dad’s bad jokes and Mom’s warm hugs.

Max pulled out her phone and clicked answer. 

“Hi, Pops.” Max said happily. She did miss her dad. Last time they talked was last week, her dad advising her that he and Max’s mother would be able to scratch together some funds for an “appointment” for Max to see someone. Max texted them both back the next day letting them know that she was going to stop in and see the new counselor, Miss Flores, after the push of Ms. Grant, so that they wouldn’t worry so much. 

 _“Hiya, kiddo. I hope you’re doing okay. Are you doing okay?”_ his voice was a little on the nervous side.

 “Yeah, I’m…I’m doing alright, just going to my last class for the day. I’m really excited to catch up with you guys. Though the drive is going to suck. How is mom?” Max asked while mindlessly wandering about the sidewalk at the front of the school building. Her free hand toyed with a metal button on Chloe’s leather jacket. Her eye caught sight of some Vortex Club kids hanging out under the large tree across campus, their laughter drifting her way.

Her father sighed heavily on the phone, _“Oh, honey…Listen…”_

Max felt her gut tighten up in worry. She knew whatever he had to say was going to be bad. Max’s mind scanned through all the possible scenarios: did the family dog die? Did her parents have to work on Thanksgiving again? Could they not get a ticket for Gran’s flight from Chicago in time before all the seats were taken? She paced in circles around the sidewalk in worry.

Max griped her phone tightly, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

There was a long pause, _“Your… Oh, god. Listen Max, I just want to know that you’ll be okay.”_

_Why is he stalling? What the hell is going on?_

“Dad!” Max said forcefully. “What’s going on?”

_“I wish there was anything else I could be calling about right now, but… Listen, Maxie…Your Gran is in the hospital and it doesn’t look like she’s… she’s not doing very well and the nursing home gave us a call this afternoon. Your mother…your mother and I had to figure out a way to get up to Chicago, so—,”_

Max stopped dead in her tracks, frozen. “Gran?” her voice was small. 

Her father’s deep calming voice took over again, _“Yes, honey…Gran, she had a stroke and fell in her room this morning. The hospital is taking the best care to make sure she’s comfortable.”_

_Comfortable? Why is he saying it like that?_

Her felt her lower lip begin to tremble. “Well, are we going to fly and see her?” 

He gave a heavy sigh, _“We’re waiting, sitting on a bench at the airport waiting for our flight out. We knew you had class still going on today, and you’ve been through way too much for a kid your age as of recently. I’m so…”_ her father’s voice cracked and she heard a low sob, _“I know you’re going to be upset at me, but your mother and I have talked it over. We don’t know how long we will have to be in Chicago. The doctor’s say it could be two days, maybe a week…Your Gran doesn’t have your Gramps anymore and we’re the last of her family. When…_ ” her dad sniffled, _“When Gran goes they will fly her back to us to Arcadia Bay so she can be with her sister.”_

Max visualized her Gran’s icy, dead body in a makeshift box stored next to some vacation goer’s luggage. It made her stomach churn. She shook her head. An image of a newly dug rectangle hole burned in her head; a shiny, chestnut coffin resting below a tiny, blue fluttering butterfly. Max began biting her thumb nail, mostly to slow the trembling of her mouth. Covering her face with the smooth sleeve of the jacket, she let a tear fall to the concrete sidewalk below her feet. She clutched the phone even tighter to her ear. 

 _“Maxie? Baby, tell me what’s going on.”_ He asked calmly through a watery voice. 

“Why can’t I come with you and mom? What if she wonders why I’m not _there_.” Max’s voice cracked and she felt her cheeks burn hot with liquid sorrow. 

Max heard her father on the other line roughly clear his throat, _“She’s not responding much right now, but they’re doing the best they can, but it doesn’t seem hopeful. It’s okay, Maxie, we will tell her, even if she’s sleeping, we will tell her whatever you want us to. I’m so… I’m so sorry.”_  

Max paused her restless feet and realized that she wasn’t ever going to see her Gran alive again. No Thanksgiving. No stuffing. No long chats about her Gran’s days as a nurse in the Army, which Max thought was the coolest fucking thing on Earth. No hot cocoa with giant marshmallows made on the stove. 

 _How does someone even make a hot cocoa on the stove?_ She thought, incredulously. It must have been a grandmother only type of secret. 

 _“Daddy…I’m sorry about Gran. She’s your mom.”_ Max’s voice was watery and heavy. 

His little bit of composure must have broken then, as she heard him sniffle multitudes and then he sounded far away. The soft, warming voice of her mother took over for him. 

_“Oh, Maxine. I’m so sorry and if there was any way we could scoop you up from Blackwell and get you here to us, we would do it. Your… your dad had to take a minute. He’s… pretty upset, but he’s worried about you too. We tried to call your one friend in Seattle? Kristen… to see if their family could help, but their family is traveling to Florida for break…We were thinking that it is possible we could be back by Wednesday, per doctor’s statements on Gran. We want to be back in time for Thanksgiving on Thursday and when we do, we don’t care how, but we’ll get a little rental car from the airport and drive right to you.”_

Max could tell how terrible her parents felt about Gran, about having to ditch Max. She wanted to be angry at them for leaving to go to Chicago without her, but Max was good at piecing her family’s financial issues together. She knew there wasn’t a possibility of them being able to afford three seats on a flight, in the middle of the Thanksgiving travel rush for all of them to go visit Gran. Not to mention all the other things…funeral costs… 

Rubbing her hands down her face, wiping away stray tears, she looked up as a flash of yellow hair caught her eye. Rushing up the steps of Blackwell were Taylor Christensen, Courtney Wagner, and Victoria Chase. 

 _“Maxine? Hello, honey?”_ her mother cooed through the phone. 

“Just…please tell Gran I love her for me. And mom, it’s okay. I understand.” Max mumbled numbly into the phone before hanging up.

Taking a shaky breath in, she tried to piece together the fact that she’d be alone most of Fall Break at Blackwell Academy.

_Relax, Max… you’d have to get through Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday is when Mom and Dad will come get your mopey ass._

Sure, Max could hang in there. Sniffling and wiping away at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, the distant ringing of the class bell carried through the campus, letting students know to get their butts in gear.

 _One more class, Mighty Max, you can do it…Then you’re done! You can cry in your room all night. You can cry for the next three days if you need to, just get to class. You can’t miss any more periods hiding under your comforter or you’re in it even worse with the school._  

Being alone at Blackwell Academy for most of break wasn’t what Max expected. She knew she had to get her ass into gear and look over the things she missed in a few classes. Max didn’t exactly know how she was going to focus between the threat of her scholarship being taken away, that she was going to be alone for a while, and the realization that her Gran was in Chicago hooked up to hospital tubes.

_Not to mention your terrible sleep schedule._

The sounding of the final warning period bell rang through campus. Max observed the other students rush into the building, their buzzing excitement for break that was once contagious, now a cruel reminder. Most of the Blackwell kids went home to their families during break. A small handful of students hung behind, mostly drinking, hooking up, and sleeping until 12:30 p.m. everyday.

 _Honestly, the last one doesn’t sound too bad…_  

Maybe that was Max needed. A week to herself, to clean her room, reading a stack of books, and sleeping in until absurdly late. She realized she’d have to sign a little form letting the school know she wasn’t going anywhere for break to keep a headcount. 

_And you have to study, you idiot._

Recalling the serious face of Victoria when she had pushed and held Max’s door open, she grasped that it was true about what Victoria said earlier in the week: Max _was_ going to lose her scholarship if she didn’t get her shit, (grades), together. Her throat began to tighten and her eyes began to grow hot again. 

_We’re going to take it one hour at a time, Max. Relax. Relax…_

Her phone buzzed again as she rounded a corner of the hall, heading towards her class. Wanting nothing more than to scream and throw it as far as she could down the hall, ignoring what terrible thing it could be about, for today had been going fantastically for her, she resisted doing so and peeked down. 

_What the hell?_

In bold letters, the name **_VICTORIA_** popped up in her notifications. Feeling her stomach tighten, she dreaded opening it. 

_What did I even do now to make her text me?_

**VICTORIA:** where r u? helloooo? class just started.

_Why is she texting me about class?_

Max was going, yeah, but her legs were a little short and she was walking in the direction of their shared film class now. Reaching the classroom door, Max discovered to her horror that the door was already closed, which in film class, meant that it was locked. Their instructor did not like it when students would rudely walk in during a film, “ _it is just plain disrespectful to the art form_ ” he stated to a student once. She reached out and jiggled the handle. The instructor, Mr. Webb, swung open the door dramatically and gave Max the classic stink eye. She figured she deserved it. 

“I’m—I’m so sorry, Mr. Webb. It was a family emergency,” she whispered. She figured her face and eyes looked awful, so it came as her proof. The instructor looked to Max’s bruised cheek adorned with a bandage and frowned.

Mr. Webb’s beady eyes searched Max’s face again, he sighed and stepped aside to let her into the dark classroom. “If that’s the case, I’m sorry.” 

Max nodded, not wanting to elaborate on anything she didn’t have to and ducked her way over to the back of the row of desks where she normally sat, attempting to ignore a few giggles and glares. 

The voice of Courtney, one of the Vortex minions, hissed as Max weaved through the seats. _“Dykefield was probably off crying about her dead girlfriend so hard, she smacked her face into a tree to get that bruise.”_ Courtney quietly laughed at her own harsh joke. _“It’s so pathetic. As if anybody really gave a shit about Chloe punkass Price.”_

Max stopped ahead of her own seat, clenching both fists dangerously. Grinding her jaw together, a surge of fury bubbled into her chest.

 _Today is not the day to fuck with Max Caulfield, not after the day I’ve had._  

Max turned quickly to face the girl. Wedging herself right between Victoria and Courtney, she felt a rather odd surge of viciousness. Placing her palm directly in front of Courtney on the desk, pinning her to where she sat, she leaned forward, inches from the round nose of the Vortex crowd crony.  

“What the _fuck_ did you just say, Courtney?” Max’s voice was daringly loud. A quarter of the class shifted around in the dark classroom to watch the development. Courtney’s jaw dropped open.

Mr. Webb’s head snapped upwards from his desk at the front of the room and he gave Max a piercing warning glare. At this moment, Max didn’t give a damn. Now half the class was watching anxiously. 

Max caught Courtney’s face in the shadows of the room go from humored, to befuddled, to… 

_Is that…shock? With a dash of fear._

“Next time you want to say something like that, say it to _my fucking face_ and I promise you, I will personally wipe that stupid smirk right off that mug of yours.” Max whispered it loud enough so the select Vortex elite around Courtney could heed her warning. 

Max sighted the falling of Victoria’s jaw while someone gave a low whistle and a few students murmured in response to being within earshot of her threat. Her open mouth hung there, looking out of place on a pretty face like hers, in complete and utter disbelief. Max tapped the desk twice with two slim fingers for effect, gave her a grin loaded with bravado, and pulled away from Courtney’s dumbfounded face. 

“Maxine Caulfield? Is there an issue?” Mr. Webb’s voice was serious and peeved from the front of the class.

Victoria’s wide eyes bounced between Max, Courtney, and the instructor with the fervor of a spectator glued to an intense tennis match in its last few seconds. Her normally unyielding green eyes, now doused in awe. However, Max noticed, Victoria Chase’s eyes hung longer onto the ballsy, freckled face of Max Caulfield. 

Looking up with all the acting skills she could muster, Max shrugged and responded calmly, “No, we’re good here, Mr. Webb.” Max glared at the side profile of Courtney as she sauntered back toward her desk, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. 

Victoria caught Max’s bold stare once she flopped into her desk chair. Max fluttered her eyelashes in disbelief at herself, bravado now gone, just as Victoria gave Max an overtly obvious “holy shit” look. It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t defensive and protective for Courtney, it was a mix between shaken and fascinated. Max was pretty sure she had just stunned Victoria Chase and company. 

_What the fuck did I just do? Oh, my GOD. What is wrong with you, Max?_

Max attempted to ignore all the thoughts popping up about the Vortex Club plotting retaliation against her now and into the future. If her life was already annoying with their constant badgering, it was more than likely going to get worse now.  

Thirty minutes ticked by as she doodled dark shit into her journal, ignoring the film completely, when she sensed a very particular glare being shot her way. As she detected it, there was Victoria Chase, sitting exotically in her class seat, stockinged legs hung over one another, back straight and poised, palm resting gently against a soft cheek, observing Max carefully as she doodled an inky skull. The pixie blonde wasn’t glaring, but a delicate brow was raised in a suspicious curiosity. Victoria broke the short-lived eye contact with Max and stared straight ahead at the projector screen, bouncing a heeled foot. 

Max scooted closer to her desk, pretending like she was actively trying to pay attention. If she remembered correctly, the class was halfway through some foreign film. That was fine and all, except for the fact that Max had no idea what happened in the first half. Max didn’t even know the names of the characters. She was mostly sure she dozed off last class by mistake, being exhausted by the hauntings of her nightmares. Besides, her nerves weren’t yet settled from getting in Courtney’s face earlier so focusing on some French guy chase after some hot chick in the olden days wasn’t at the top of her priorities at the second.

Her phone vibrated against her leg. Pulling it out carefully, hiding it under the desk so Mr. Webb wouldn’t see, she saw Victoria Chase’s name pop up again. 

_This is a weird fucking day._

**VICTORIA:** pay attention nerd. don’t fail this shit. 

Flicking her eyes towards the back of Victoria’s head just ahead of her, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside the Queen Bee of Blackwell’s brain. Victoria had been less awful these past two months. Sure, Max learned during that life altering, time-warping week that Victoria was more than the one dimensional reigning bitch of campus that she wanted people to see. Still, all those conversations and experiences Max had with Victoria evaporated somewhere off into time; another dimension. Maybe the loss of Nathan had really brought a new perspective to the Vortex Club leader. It was weird now, Max couldn’t really figure out what Victoria thought about Max. It used to be very cut and dry. 

Victoria’s shoulders suddenly tensed and the blonde quickly, yet with elegance, turned around and glared at Max again for the third time this class. Her green eyes narrowed and mouth pinched in annoyance. Max nearly jumped out of her chair in surprise, as if she was caught in the act of something dirty. 

Victoria’s soft pinked glossed lips began to mouth words: 

[PAY. ATTENTION. CAULFIELD.] 

_Oh..._

Max jutted her head forward slightly and gave Victoria a heavy raise of both brows accompanied by a slightly exaggerated and silly raising of her hands. She responded back, mouthing the words: 

[I. AM.]

Even though the classroom was dark except for the occasional changing of light from the playing movie, a glimmer of a humored grin played on the very corner of Victoria’s lip. 

[YEAH. RIGHT.] 

Victoria looked at Max through her expensive mascara swept eyelashes before turning back around to the screen.

* * *

 

****

**_{VICTORIA}_ **

 

**FRIDAY; Afternoon**

_Max Fucking Nerd-brain Hipster Caulfield seriously just shut Courtney down in the middle of film class today…_

Victoria personally found the whole scene earlier quite enthralling. The entire Vortex Club group chat was buzzing back and forth about the whole ordeal. Mostly of Courtney demanding that something be done to show Max Caulfield that her little classroom show of bravery, was defiant folly. It must have shaken Courtney to some degree. That was one of the first times Victoria Chase had ever seen Courtney Wagner knocked-off-her-ass stunned speechless. 

_Who would have though she had it in her?_

The notion caused a pleased raise of her lip. The way Max’s freckles danced along her one bruised cheek when she tapped the desk in a nonchalant, yet killer ending statement was poetic. When Max got close and wedged herself between her and Courtney, Victoria smelled the faintest hint of leather, cigarettes, and old pot. Yet there was a clean, cotton smell that must have been Max’s hair. 

_Hmm…weirdly not a bad combination._

Victoria could have named at least three designer brand scents for men that smelled that way. 

_Does she wear cologne? Oh, what if she wore cologne, that would be nice._

Victoria dead-panned her own face and rolled her neck in annoyance at herself.

 _Did I just think ‘that would be nice’? I’m losing it._  

Max was wearing a pretty fashionable leather jacket and Victoria realized that a black, punk-like jacket wasn’t something normally found in the soft nerd’s wardrobe. Her blue eyes were murderous and the whole vibrating macho thing that radiated from Max for those intense few seconds were weirdly…appealing. It was fantastic work, a thrilling performance that Victoria never thought she’d see from Caulfield. Honestly, Victoria wouldn’t have done it any better herself. 

_Max has been different these last two months, like the world doesn’t scare her as bad._

After the whole Courtney ordeal in class, the artsy-fartsy hipster went off and ignored nearly the entire film afterwards, doodling skulls and black butterflies all over the corners of a notebook. For maybe the second time in the last two months, Victoria couldn’t help but notice a more masculine edge to the quiet hippie. Her thoughts wandered to Max’s friend Chloe, who, if she had been forced to admit it at gun point or something, had definitely been an attractive, masculine chick. Yeah, she was a pain in the ass when they had only crossed paths those few times, but finding out that _the_ Rachel Amber dated multiple girls, and Chloe being one of them, well—it fascinated her. Rachel Amber’s prime fucking arm candy, punk-rock lover, Chloe. It wasn’t odd to assume that maybe Max had adopted some form of that badass confidence and machoism from her childhood best friend since her passing. Maybe even including a certain jacket. 

_Is Max Caulfield a closeted badass?_

It was an interesting thought, surely. This Max that had poked through the shell of the timid, gawking, pun-loving naïveté girl was from some place deep. A place of hurt and trauma. That Victoria knew. It almost disgusted her by how fascinating she found it. Sure, she got the glimpses of bullied Max, of crying and collapsing Max, of the wonderfully creative and soft Max, but not this confident, vibrating, ballsy Caulfield. The moment Max fled the photography room that fateful day, she came back an entirely different version of herself: quicker, layered, more…complicated? 

_I mean who the fuck would go up to a Vortex member during a class period and pull that shit?_

The thing was, people did not just go up to Vortex members, face-to-face, in the middle of a lesson to threaten to smack the ever-living shit out of an elite affiliate. Nobody did that. Most of the students either wanted to fuck them, hate them from a safe distance, or be them. That shit she did, it took balls. It _should_ anger Victoria that Max dared to challenge Courtney, but it pleased her. Courtney had been a major pain in the ass the past two months, so when her friend gaped beside her, looking to Victoria for back up once Max strode away, Victoria had rolled her eyes, pursed her lips, and ignored Courtney entirely. 

Zach suddenly came jogging up alongside Victoria in the hallway. She was leaving to walk back to the girl’s dormitory from the last film class before break. He was breathing heavy, a wild look in his eyes.

“Did you hear about Dykefield threatening to take Courtney out?” Zach furrowed his brow, stammered and added, “well, not like…on a date kind of _out_ , but like kill her out.” 

Word traveled fast around here. Victoria sighed, slightly aggravated. She suddenly wished that she had never sent him that scandalous snap earlier that one morning. Men turned into stray, mangy dogs if they hadn’t been given the sweet sexual release they figured they were owed.  

“I was there for it. Courtney almost shit bricks,” Victoria stated, adding a delicate, feminine dark chuckle. 

Zach grabbed her shoulder and stopped her from taking the first step outside of Blackwell’s front doors. His eyes changed into that horny, dog looking glaze that made her stomach churn. 

“Bet it was kind of weirdly hot though…them both going at each other like that,” he cooed, leaning closer to her ear and gripping her shoulder in his large palm. 

Victoria gave him a blazing look and shrugged his hand away.

“Anyway, Vicky. How about you and I-,”

Before he could continue on with his proposal, his eye caught sight of something that must have interested him greatly, just over Victoria’s shoulder. 

“Holy shit. If it ain’t ballsy, ballster Max Caulfield,” Zach bellowed.

Victoria took a discreet glance over her shoulder and saw a head of wavy brunette hair and messy bangs. 

“Excuse me,” Max mumbled, lost in thought as she pushed passed them both to exit the front doors of the school. 

Zach bounced between wanting to stop Max to find out more information on the incident and to obviously pick on Max a little more, or continue with his proposal for Victoria. He allowed Max to pass by without issue and Victoria figured that her attention to him was way more valuable.   

“Like I was trying to say… can I come up to your room before we all leave campus? I’ve got _two_ little parting gifts.” Zach nearly waggled both brows in a suggestive manner.

Victoria felt gross and stepped back. However, she was pleased that he left Max alone to keep his attention on her instead. 

“Yeah, sure, Zach. Send me a text,” she said without the usual suave, turned and exited the main building without another word.

She caught glimpse of the back of Max as she weaved, head down between students. Max looked tense, like the back of her shoulders were too bunched. Max was clad in her usual dork hoodie, albeit under a jacket Victoria approved of on her, and she was surprisingly, also wearing a skinny, distressed pair of jeans. The ends were cuffed above the ankle of her hi-top converse and purple character socks peeked beneath the rolled legs. It wasn’t too terrible an outfit, Victoria had to admit. The nerd was also wearing some oversized black, acid washed band tee that actually looked good. The brunette then silently disappeared into the door to the building that held faculty offices.

_Honestly, Max getting more comfortable about what she wears and looking cooler makes a good defensive argument when they say Max Caulfield is still too lame to join Vortex Club…not that Max wants to joint it, but still…_

Once Victoria had made it to her room and settled herself in, she sat in her desktop chair and began scrolling the usual social media sites. After about an hour, she grew bored at the uninteresting couple photos, endless selfies, and political posts adorning all sites. She minimized the screen, thinking about how she should gather all of her luggage near the door in preparations for her father’s driver to come get her. 

She was nervous about doing Fall Break without Nathan, usually their families would spend a lot of time together. Their parents were all important, affluent people. The Prescotts spent a good amount on the art and the art gallery itself at the Chase Space, which Victoria’s parents owned. Her mother’s constant pushing of Victoria to woo Nathan in the possibility of getting the two families to keep the riches in matrimony was almost ritual on break. Both she and Nathan would laugh about it when they would separate and take a walk on the beach after the extravagant meal.

Nathan and Victoria decided to keep up the game for their parents; they would speak sweetly to each other at social gatherings of the high elite, hang out alone together, give their parents the idea that there was hope for such a couple. It was their own private, long-winded joke that lasted for years. Neither Nathan nor Victoria denying or confirming any assumptions about the relationship they shared in front of the eyes of others when curiously asked about it. They didn’t want to fuck each other by any means. Sure, she and Nathan had made out at a few Vortex socials under the influence, but there were never any romantic feelings there. Victoria wasn’t even sure if Nathan ever felt romantic toward anyone his whole life, ever. He had flings. He was too unruly, too spark-fused, too preoccupied within his own head to spread out into another like that. 

Now, Victoria was going to be alone with her parents all break. The Prescotts were tied up in obvious legal issues, and if Victoria was being logical, she knew her own parents were currently dealing with the backlash of being tightly associated with the Prescott family name. Obviously, her parents needed a strong showcase for their annual winter show. If not, the Chases risked losing their credibility of the country’s west coast art world. 

Victoria already messaged a few school friends that were older, more sophisticated, and already away in a typical University. They’d all promised to party together at least twice; her text message inbox filled with other, unopened requests for her presence at parties over break. She had to pick and choose which she’d go to back in Seattle. 

A ding erupted from her computer speakers, she dropped a bag on the floor near the door, turned and woke up the sleeping desktop screen with the shake of the mouse. A tiny preview of an email from her father popped up in her school’s email inbox. 

 _Speak of the devil…_ she thought crudely.

He was probably travelling, using his Bluetooth headset on a conference call or something and couldn’t call her. It was typical for her family to send emails instead of speaking over the phone.

She clicked the email that failed to have a subject line and began reading: 

 

**_Victoria,_ **

****

**_It is with your mother and I’s deepest regrets to inform you that we will both be making a last-minute business trip to the Gallifron Art gallery in London, UK. It is a big opportunity for us as a business to attend this auction and procure pieces for the Chase Space’s winter show. We know if any artist understands the importance of something like this, it is you._ **

****

**_We hope this email reaches you in high spirits._ **

****

**_Please don’t forget to enjoy your break. I transferred a suffice amount into your account so you may enjoy your break comfortably. Don’t forget to call your mother on the holiday, she said she misses you._ **

****

**_Michael Chase_ **

**_Founder and Co-Owner of the Renowned, “Chase Space” Art Gallery_ **

_Office: 555.222.8854_

Victoria gripped the mouse so tightly in her right palm that her gold rings on her hand were digging into her fingers. Typical Michael Fucking Chase.

_Un-fucking-believable!_

Victoria let out a scream before flopping onto her bed, her face buried beneath the mountain of decorative pillows atop her comforter. Suddenly, she found herself weeping into the soft fabrics. This shouldn’t shock her or upset her. Her parents had business to tend to. The expansion and trend-setting of Chase Space was of the family’s utmost importance, she knew. Still, all that knowledge of facts didn’t halt the stream of hot tears that poured from the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t bear to message her friends back home in Seattle and inform that she wasn’t going to be there for the big mansion parties. Victoria didn’t want to stay in the Chase family’s eight bedroomed home all alone, no number of bangers could fill that echoing space all of break. 

_Guess I’m fucking stuck here at Blackwell then. This…this sucks._

Victoria stuffed her face deep into a pillow again, let out an angry wail, stood up and smoothed the $300 soft cashmere of her cardigan. Victoria Chase didn’t get upset and cry at things out of her control. No, Victoria Chase took matters into her own hands. She could have her own fun over break if she wanted. Who the fuck needed her distant and chilly parents’ excuse for a Thanksgiving? Certainly not her. She could do without the quiet eating, private chef prepared meal at the long glass dining table that this year would be. The clanking of silverware taking up most of the empty space and words neither Victoria, nor her parents had. The previous Thanksgivings where the Prescotts and Chases gathered in the same mansion, gossiping up about high powered friends, drunk on Grey Goose or expensive brandy sounded a lot better to her suddenly. Victoria woefully smiled at the memory of her and Nathan sneaking off into the entertainment center basement, firing up the enormous sound system, dancing to bad pop music and taking turns swigging through a bottle of Crown. 

 _I miss you, Nathan…_ A single, last hot tear dripping from her chin. 

The Prescotts gave her an unexplainable chill nowadays though. The newspapers and online articles all tying Jefferson back to the high-powered, upper class family. Victoria would think about the harsh and serious face of Sean Prescott and feel ill. All he had to do was help his fucking son. Nathan tried to reach out, but he got punished instead. 

 _I’m no fucking better than Sean Prescott,_ Victoria reminded herself again. 

She needed to fill her head with literally, anything else. She walked over to her stereo system and hit the on button, turning up the volume louder than it should be in the dormitory. 

_Who even cares? Everyone is gone already._

Victoria plugged in her phone to the stereo’s cable and searched through her long list of albums. Finding what she was looking for, she pressed play and tossed her phone against the desk. A loud and heavy guitar rift, accompanied by angry drums washed over her tense body. 

_“I’m on the edge of the rooftop thinking nobody will ever know—.”_

The voice howled against the angsty, heavy music. Victoria closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she attempted to do her breathing exercises among the scream-singing of the band on the stereo. She was going to be alone, stuck in this shithole of a small town for an entire week. Maybe she could convince her parents to send her on that Rome trip she had been hinting about for a year. She always wanted to take photographs there. Her eyes fluttered open. She was absolutely going to be using this against them the next time they told her no. She could almost hear her bratty voice now, _“but you both ditched me at Blackwell on Thanksgiving! I was all alone all break!”_

The music riled her up and she was partly glad. Being angry was something Victoria Chase was good at; familiar. Being scared, panting, covered in a nightmarish sweat, seeing things that caused her guilt…that was something unfamiliar and frightening. She’d take anger over fear any day. 

Then, the _bring!_ sound of her phone notifying her of a text message played over the stereo before continuing with the album she picked. Feeling suddenly self-conscious about the choice of genre, loudly blaring from her dorm room, because Victoria Chase didn’t listen to music like that, she walked over and turned it down to a lower volume and peered at the text on her screen.

Thankfully, it wasn’t from anyone in the dorm asking her what the fuck she was listening to. 

 _Ah. Of course it’s you…_ she thought, straight faced _._

Victoria Chase suddenly knew exactly what she needed to get this buzzing anger out of her system.

 **VICTORIA:** meet me at 8:00 

She typed quickly before pressing send.  

_I hope you know what you’re doing, Victoria._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! My new aesthetic is Max in grungy-cool clothes now, sorry. LEAVE SOME WORDS BELOW. 
> 
> Like I said earlier in the notes, I'm working on a AU/crossover story for LiS with a pretty famous angsty time travel movie. If you guys are curious to know, ask me. I've already written a few chapters to it. *Insert dark chuckle here*. P.S. It's AmberPrice/ChaseField mainly and everyone is in uniform. ;)
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	4. Of Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max returns to her dorm to hear some very strange things coming from the room of Victoria Chase. Max stumbles upon something very raw and personal and decides to stick around with her dorm neighbor. Victoria, being Victoria, makes some rather bad decisions and finds herself curiously drawn to Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!
> 
> This was probably my favorite chapter to write so far and it was so long that I had to split it up. So here's essentially, part one of chapter 4. If you were waiting for some of that tension to spill over, well... you're in luck. I think writing this story has helped ground me during a rough patch. I'm happy to be able to work my brain/creative muscles so I'm thankful to whoever takes the time to read this and feel a certain way about it. Talk to me after! Some of my favorite things are talking to other readers and writers.
> 
>  
> 
> **TW: drug use, drinking, mentions of possible sexual assault. Read safely!**

_**CHAPTER 4** : Of Cat and Mouse_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_{MAX}_ **

 

**FRIDAY; Evening**

Somehow, Max didn’t truly know how, but she survived a full appointment with Miss Flores with minimal crying and she never revealed anything about Chloe. The latter was something she could not talk to a stranger about just yet. It helped though, that Miss Flores never asked her about Chloe or her death once, nor the entire bathroom incident with Nathan. Max figured Miss Flores was smart and the peculiar soft look she gave her throughout their appointment let her know that she wasn’t anxious to push onto the subject with Max.

_Am I interesting to her? Like, here’s Maxine Caulfield, the giant fucking mess of a person. What makes her tick? What makes her cry?_

Max figured she must be interesting to analyze from the outside.

_And they don’t even know all of it…_

Max did confide in Miss Flores about the news of her grandmother back in Chicago, being sick and living on her last days in this world. Max figured she had to throw the counselor a bone, or else the whole shooting would have been forced to come up. Miss Flores patiently listened and encouraged Max to talk about it. Conveniently failing to mention to the counselor that she would be alone at Blackwell Academy until Wednesday due to this, probably holed up in her room, she knew it could enable Miss Flores to worry unnecessarily about her. Otherwise, the rest of the appointment went over smoothly.

Max wouldn’t say she felt particularly restored or healed or anything afterwards, but if she was being honest, she did feel a little bit better about her Gran’s sad predicament due to Miss Flores’ kind eyes and understanding suggestions for Max on how to approach this loss.

 _Loss…ugh._ Another loss that Max really didn’t want to file into her brain slot of the people she loved that were now gone.

Max rounded the corner towards the girl’s dormitory. The nighttime chill had flooded the air and she stopped in her tracks. She didn’t want to go back to her room just yet, there would be plenty of time during break for that. Nuzzling Chloe’s leather jacket closer to her neck, she nestled herself beneath a tree. The bark had a sloppy _“Rachel Amber forever”_ etched into it. Max almost moved to a different tree to park herself under, but decided otherwise.

_You can’t avoid every single reminder, Max._

So instead of running under another tree, she peered upwards, through the gentle rustling of browning leaves above her to the stars beyond. There were so many that Max wondered how long it would take her to count just the stars in the field of view of her eyes. She thought this angle, looking up through the rustling, dying leaves into the stars would make for a fantastic photo.

A pang of sadness rushed into her heart. The brunette hadn’t been able to take a proper fucking photo since the day Chloe was murdered. Max had even felt _relief_ when the new principal had decided to cancel the photography class for the semester after the whole Jefferson ordeal. It was too raw for students to sit in the class directly after discovering what kind of person the artist was. Max was thankful. She couldn’t handle the click, flash, whirring noise of her instant camera anyway. She knew it was ridiculous, but Max was terrified that her time reversal powers would come back if she took photos with that camera again. It was too much to even consider risking. Still, looking up at this sky like she was, she pulled out her cell and snapped a quick picture and sent it to Kate. Kate appreciated even her boring phone photos at least. Or at least, she pretended to whenever she and Max sent photos back and forth to each other.

Max was in a strange mood today and right now she felt a bit of calm tickle her chilly cheeks. Honestly, the cool wind on her left eye and cheek felt good. Max remembered that she failed to ice the damn thing like Victoria told her to do. Warren had reassured her by commenting on Max’s appearance today on campus, saying she looked “badass” and “tough” with her leather jacket and black eye. He waved goodbye to her through the window of his dingy blue car as Warren was one of the last to pull out of the Blackwell Academy parking lot, wishing her a happy break. He was kind and left her a list of films to watch, a PDF of film notes she missed in class, and an album or two on a tiny flash drive. Max didn’t have the heart to tell any of her friends that she’d be stuck at Blackwell for a few days. She didn’t want them to feel bad for her, or worse, worry about her.

Before thinking on it, she found herself listening to the ring back of Kate’s phone number. Max’s phone held to her ear beneath the hood of her sweater, hand covered by Chloe’s jacket to keep it warm, she wanted to hear a friendly voice.

“Hey, there Max. What’s up?” The voice was happy.

“Nothing,” Max replied, realizing that she didn’t have an actual reason to call Kate at all.

“I saw your photo, it’s really cool the way it makes you feel so small, but the message of the starry sky tells us that He’s watching over us always,” Kate hummed, almost lost in thought.

Max couldn’t help but chuckle. “I just thought it looked cool from where I’m sitting is all, but I’m glad you found a message for it.” And she was glad.

“Are you excited for break? I’m a little nervous, since the meaner side of my family still holds that video fiasco over my head, even though they know by now that I wasn’t lying and I was drugged by-,”

There was dead silence on the other end for about five seconds before a sweet sounding, sad sigh. Kate cut herself off from talking to spare Max any terrible flashbacks or memories. Really, Kate was probably the only person who had a hint of what Max was going through.

“I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to bring that up like that.”

Max suddenly felt awful. Were her friends dancing around her, censoring their conversations to avoid upsetting her?

“No, seriously…If you want to talk about it, Kate. I’m totally 100% fine with that.”

It was quiet for a moment again before, “Um…no, can we talk about something else?”

Between Nathan shooting Chloe in the girl’s bathroom, Mr. Jefferson’s perverted escapades in the Prescott bunker dark room, and Rachel Amber’s body turning up in the junk yard, the entirety of Blackwell Academy had forgotten about Kate’s make-out video at that one party in this reality. The ones who hadn’t forgotten were the ABPD, who presumably had a copy for evidence against Nathan, and of course Max, Kate, and the Marshes.

In this reality of no storm and no Chloe, due to the sudden decrease of bullying from Victoria after the inciting incident with Nathan, a lot of the Vortex Club followed suit. Max thought she even heard Victoria deliberately silencing members who attempted to pick on Kate for the disturbing video of her being drugged out of her mind, locking lips with random guys. The video link mysteriously disappeared from the internet, Max presumed by the police, and it was hardly talked about again.

This made things…hard and yet easy for Kate. They were hard because the trauma she did endure, being in that dark room, her photos found and captured by investigators, being drugged and doing things she’d never do, were all still there in her own nightmares. And as quickly as people were gossiping about it, they had forgotten. Due to this, the repercussions of that trauma were being ignored, hushed, hidden away like a dirty dust ball swept under the proverbial rug. Yet, it was easy for Kate because it kept her out of everyone’s mouths around school, she could sink back into her comfortable, quiet corner and heal there, a bit more peacefully. Then again, nobody truly knew of her sufferings, except for maybe Max. Kate did not attempt suicide in this reality. She had been on watch and Max never had to follow her to a roof top, but there were text messages sent to her from Kate a week or two after the video leak that suggested Kate had considered such a thing due to feeling so dirty and unclean. Max made damned sure it would never happen again in this one. She gave Kate whatever she needed.

Max still shivered when the black and white images of Kate’s hands duct-taped together in a praying pose crept into her mind. She couldn’t even imagine what she would do if in this reality, Max had photos of herself drugged up, taped up, and photographed that were out there.

“Um, sorry. What?” Max asked, realizing that Kate had ended her spiel on her church’s annual Thanksgiving dinner for the homeless.

Kate giggled gently, “Off in your own world under the stars, aren’t you, Max? I said I have to go and get into my pajamas, but it was very kind of you to give me a call.”

Max found herself frowning, wishing she had Kate, or Warren or any of her friends with her for break.

“Oh, yeah. Okay, talk to you later, Kate.”

“Tell your parents I said hello and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Oh,” Max stammered, “Yeah, right. Thanks, buh-bye.”

Max stared at the time. It was 8:15 p.m. on a Friday night and she somehow avoided heading back to her dorm for three hours already since her meeting with Flores, so she figured that she might as well get up and bite the bullet now to lay like a lifeless lump in her bed and catch a few episodes of something mindless like _Kitchen Nightmares._

_Maybe I should look at the film notes Warren left me instead…_

As Max headed up the stairwell to her floor of the dormitory, she heard the faint sounds of heavy rock music playing. Which, wasn’t entirely odd as some kids waited to go home on Saturday with their folks, but it was rare. She realized it was coming from the end of her hall, towards her room.

_Victoria’s room. Hold on, I know this band…Victoria listens to a Day to Remember?_

Max almost felt impressed. With the one Vortex Club party she attended while in search for Nathan in the other reality, the music had been very loud and dance-poppy synth type of stuff. Max never really thought about Victoria’s music taste, but she figured it was nothing more than Taylor Swift and dance pop.

_Wait…Victoria is still here tonight? Wasn’t she bragging during the lecture about leaving after class and arriving in Seattle with a bottle of Chardonnay to her friend’s party?_

Max furrowed her own brow and realized she really was too nosy for her own damned good.

Reaching her end of the hall, she stopped outside of Victoria’s door and enjoyed the last bit of breakdown of the song, casually bobbing her head and mouthing a few familiar lyrics here and there. The song ended and what Max heard next, nearly made her jump out of her skin.

A muffled sound of bodies moving and then a: _“Ungh! You’re so fucking hot. Oh... Do you like that, slut?”_ A very feminine breathy sigh was heard in response to the male voice.

Max felt her cheeks grow hot. She’d seen the messages on Victoria’s boards alluding to her sexual escapades, but this was probably the first one Max had ever awkwardly stumbled into knowing about.

Thankfully, another loud song shuffled onto her stereo and Max couldn’t hear the obvious sounds of Victoria’s sexual relations through the door any longer. Her brain betrayed her and images of a lean, soft, and very nude Victoria moaning flickered up. Desperate to get that startling image out of her head, she literally smacked her own face, barely missing her bruise. 

_Good God, Max. Pull yourself together, man… Ah, but this must be why Victoria has this music playing right now._

Feeling extremely creepy standing there, gawking just outside of Victoria Chase’s door as she was fucking some dude, Max began frantically patting her pockets to feel for her room key. She wanted to escape the hallway as fast as possible. She tip-toed to her door, her back to the loud noises of guitars behind her, and she focused on the task at hand: finding the fucking room key.

_Not in the back pockets, not in the front pockets…_

Max unzipped the side pockets on the leather jacket, wondering if she mindlessly shoved her key in there on her way out of her dorm earlier today. She shoved her hand inside the right pocket and her heart tightened in response. She pulled out a tiny, adorable panda key chain.

_Oh, Christ…_

A sudden wave of sadness hit her for the four hundredth time today it seemed. She remembered sitting across from Chloe in the diner, trying to convince her that she really did have secret, time-manipulating powers; a bunch of pocket trash and junk laid out on the table for her to memorize. Chloe had looked so _fucking_ beautiful that morning and she wished more than anything that she had told her. Or that she would ever be able to tell her something like that. Max shoved the key chain back into the jacket pocket before it caused any more thoughts to come back up.

She dug around inside the left pocket of the leather jacket and her hands wrapped around a few stray cigarettes. Pulling them out, she looked down and realized that they were, in fact, _not_ cigarettes at all.

_Leave it to Chloe to keep spare joints in every coat pocket._

Max found herself breaking into a warm smile at the thought. Max had seen Chloe tuck them behind her ear, in the brim of her beanies, hidden in pocket tees. She frowned sadly, stuffing the three of the four joints into her pocket again. Holding the one in her hand, she wondered when Chloe had rolled this, and what she had been feeling that day. Max exhaled and placed the rolled joint behind the back of her ear, like she had seen Chloe do multiple times that week they spent together. Chloe though, managed to look hot when she had a forgotten joint or cigarette behind her ear. Max moved her head, testing it. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem like it was going to fall out. Standing in the hallway in Chloe’s leather jacket, an unsmoked joint behind her ear, she really felt close to her long-gone friend.

**_WHU-BANG!_ **

Max yelped in surprise and whipped her head around to the frightening sound behind her. It all happened so fast that Max wasn’t entirely sure what she was seeing.

First, a stumbling Zach, his hair disheveled, shirt askew, fell out onto the hallway floor after Victoria’s door banged open. Then, two singular athletic shoes flew zooming through the air, one colliding with the side of Zach’s face and one with his chest. Zach’s face was red and shocked. Max stood still as humanly possible, her eyes flicked up to peek into Victoria’s room, which she noticed was completely dark, except for a few candles and LED string lights. A slender figure moved forward into the light of the hallway, hovering between the door frame.

 _“GET THE FUCK OUT, I SAID!”_ Victoria shrieked. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were wet.

Max had never heard her shriek before. Or seen her this visibly upset.

Zach grabbed his two weaponized shoes, never taking his eyes off her, and practically sprinted down the hallway to the stairwell.

Max realized she genuinely wasn’t breathing, absolutely terrified of the wrath of the pixie haired heiress hovering in the doorway directly behind her. What if she came for Max next? Max knew Victoria had some pointy stilettos. And well, she was kind of just hanging out in the hallway right before hand. Easy target practice. Nobody was supposed to see Blackwell’s Beauty like this. Max turned around slowly, doing her best to put on some type of ‘safari guide safety stance when approaching a lioness’ pose to show the glowering figure of Victoria Chase her palms in submission.

A long pause. Victoria glared through squinted red eyes at Max’s shocked and pale face.

“What the fuck is behind your ear?” she sputtered out a bit loudly, her face sour. Victoria blinked slowly, and more tears crept into the corners of her eyes. The change was at the drop of a pin. She gripped the edge of her door frame and slid downward to gather at the entryway between her room and the hall.

It was the most silent set of tears Max had ever seen. Victoria’s mascara streamed down her flushed cheeks, her face distant and passive. It was eerie.

_Wuh-oh. She’s messed up._

Max could tell Victoria must have been drinking or something similar. The loud music of her room stereo antagonized them both and Max couldn’t really focus on trying to help Victoria when the crash symbol sounds were rattling her brain and striking her nerve endings. She stepped over Victoria’s folded legs and entered her neighbor’s room to shut off the stereo. Max of course, had already known where it was and she hoped that Victoria wouldn’t notice how easily she seemed to know how to get around the room.

“Victoria, are you okay?” she whispered, standing in the quiet darkness of the room, looking at the back of Victoria’s head. She wasn’t sure if she whispered because of the sudden contrast of evening silence, or if it was because she was nervous for the answer. Whatever happened in the hallway just now didn’t seem good. “I can come over and pick you up?”

Victoria’s voice was sharp, “Don’t.”

Victoria sat there, back turned away from Max, head slumped against the frame, silently sobbing. Max had no idea what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t figure out if Victoria was plastered, but even if she was, Max knew this outburst was out of character for the put together socialite.

Max wanted to reach out to grip her shoulder, or maybe even sling an arm around it. She wanted to tell Victoria something poetic or sweet to try and fix any of whatever was going on with her. Instead however, Max Caulfield didn’t say anything. She carefully stepped over the stockinged legs and crossed the hall to her own door. She heard a sudden dry sob from behind before doing the only thing she could think of doing:

Max turned to face her and slowly slid down the dorm door. She sat down, her back against her own bedroom door across the hall, to warily observe Victoria to make sure she was alright. Max pulled one knee upward and rested her forearm across it, the other leg relaxed out straight ahead. She knew she might have to get comfortable, waiting to see if Victoria would say something about whatever was upsetting her. Max knew she wasn’t going to leave the hall if Victoria sat there looking that miserable. Max pulled her most relaxed, ‘I don’t care’ cool guy sit, just to show Victoria that she wasn’t going to get rid of Max so easily by ignoring her.

_Come on, I mean, I’m not going to leave her alone out here like this._

Her eyes quickly darted to Victoria’s and Max noted there was a deep, sober, sadness behind the intimidating and silent tears. Analyzing her, she seemed less intimidating with her lips plump and red, the whites of her eyes pink and watery to match. Her gaze traveled downward and Max realized that Victoria hadn’t really made herself fully decent before throwing Zach out of her dorm room. The cream, silky blouse she wore was untucked and dangerously unbuttoned down her chest. Her tight, black skirt was hitched a bit higher on her thigh than usual and Max could see the lacey designed top of the black tights as her legs were folded to the side. She gulped desperately and decided it was better to look elsewhere before she stared too long. Their eyes met again and Max grasped that maybe Victoria _wasn’t_ hammered, but she certainly wasn’t 100% sober either.

Victoria must have been studying her carefully too, because Max felt hotness in her swollen cheek when the blonde eyed-up the entirety of Max Caulfield. Max was wondering if she was sizing up her prey before attacking.

“You didn’t answer me, Max Caulfield. You don’t fuckin’ smoke,” she finally broke the silence between them. Victoria frowned, almost suspicious of Max’s antics. Her eyes were glued to the joint behind her ear for a moment.

“Well, maybe I’m considering taking it up,” Max smirked, trying her best to break the tension with a joke. Max flicked a dark brow upward in accompaniment.

Victoria’s own brow furrowed. She reached up and felt at her blouse where Max had just peered without breaking eye contact. She closed a singular button, not really doing much to help cover herself. Being the disheveled sight she was, her hand smoothed down some of her hair hastily.

Max sighed and ran a lazy, tired hand through her own hair, a small grin on her face. “I’ve got the whole stupid, ‘bad-boy’ look going on now. I’ve got leather, a bruised face, and a joint.”

Victoria’s singular left brow made a graceful rise, her mouth was slightly slack just a second before her face scrunched up in a staggered annoyance.

“Jesus, Max,” she whined. Then she was quiet for a long moment. “Why do you always constantly _see_ me? Why do you do that?”

She sounded frustrated at her and it wasn’t the response Max expected to get.

“What do you mean Victoria?” Max asked confused.

Victoria just then looked as if she wanted to say something, but disregarded it with a wave of a delicate, manicured hand. She shifted the way she sat and parked her back against the frame and propped her stockinged feet on the other side of the doorway. She quickly turned her head to look at Max across the way.

It was very surreal, to sit across from each other in the hallway, neither feeling uncomfortable.

Victoria let out a sad chuckle, to again, confuse Max. “How do you feel about wine coolers, Caulfield?”

* * *

 

 

**_{VICTORIA}_ **

 

**FRIDAY; Evening**

Victoria watched Max’s eyebrows raise behind her bangs. She hadn’t been expecting this question at all. Max stayed in her cool, laid back pose, not doing much moving other than the rubbing of two fingers against her thumb in consideration of the question. Victoria could see the answer being built in Max’s head. The hipster wasn’t very good at hiding what she was thinking. Especially when Victoria had watched Max’s eyes roam her body a moment ago.

_She couldn’t lie her way out of a damned thing._

It frustrated Victoria immensely. How could this soft hipster look so stupidly good right now? The leather jacket, the casual yet concerned way she analyzed Victoria behind a black eye made her nearly shiver. Even Max’s lame effort of making fun of herself for looking like a ‘bad-boy’ had caused an outward reaction from her.

_So fuckin’ what if she looks hot right now? It’s not **that** weird if I think that. Who wouldn’t appreciate the grungy, depressed girl aesthetic Caulfield sported? And the fucking way she holds that joint behind her ear so well…_

“I guess I like them. Just haven’t had any wine coolers in a while,” Max decided to answer finally. She then cracked a sad, lopsided smile. “You can tell I’m not the partying type.”

Victoria imagined what it would have been like if she and Max had seen each other for the first time at a Vortex Club party. Max and her curious blue eyes tracing her body as she danced against Taylor. If things were different, would Max have come up to her if she didn’t know the kind of person Victoria was?

_Would Max find me attractive?_

Victoria wanted to know and the need to know pushed away the previous desire to be alone for the rest of the night. Finding some strength, she pulled herself up to stand. She turned into her dark bedroom and walked to where she kept all the illegal goodies she had. Rummaging through a hidden box beneath her bed, she pulled out an unopened wine cooler to show her. Maybe it could be a peace offering.

Max still sat in the hall, looking a bit more nervous and less comfortable suddenly.

Victoria raised a single, alluring brow at her and she wondered if Max could see her face in the dim lighting of the room. To her relief, Max reacted with a short shrug.

“Well, it seems that both of our days were terrible and it is Friday night, I guess. You’re not… like too hammered to drink that, are you?” She was genuinely concerned for Victoria.

Victoria gave her a scoff, “I’m not drinking this, I’m drinking my vodka.”

Max’s eyes widened before Victoria cut her worried thought off and continued, “You shouldn’t mix different alcohols, nerd. Duh, that’s drinking 101. And for your information, I’m hardly buzzed.”

_Well, alright, that’s kind of a stretch, but I’m not plastered by any means…_

Victoria looked at the joint behind her ear again. Why did Max look so…different lately? Throw a joint behind the ear of a boyish looking girl with a sad black eye and suddenly Victoria was picturing herself throwing flirtatious glances to her at an imaginary party. With the weird way that she had been thinking recently one thing was for sure, she definitely needed that joint. If Max wasn’t going to smoke it herself, she should at least see if Max would give it to her.

“We can light up that bad boy too. Lord knows, I fucking need it right now,” she baited.

Max seemed to suddenly recall that there was a joint behind her ear. Her hand traced it and Victoria watched her panic.

“Oh, god. You’re not going to tell on me because I have some, right? It’s technically not even mine.”

Victoria let out a short, surprised laugh. Caulfield was just so… _pure_. That purity, mixed with the angsty-girl vibes coming from her, was suddenly too intoxicating to ignore.

“Not unless you tell on me for having liquor in my room,” Victoria toyed back a bit more teasingly than she probably should have.

Max thought for a short moment before standing up and stretching her legs out. She hovered in the hallway, wondering if Victoria wanted her to enter.

“Alright,” Max said to herself more so than Victoria. Max took tentative steps into the room.

“Well, close the door, Caulfield unless you want the hallway to stink up like weed. Not like anyone is even here anyway.”

She obeyed and it clicked closed. Victoria got up from her knees by her bed and handed Max the bottle of wine cooler before going to her window to lift it open, bringing in a cold breeze.

_Are you seriously going to make Max smoke weed? What if she’s never smoked before?_

Victoria wondered if Chloe and she had dabbled in it. An unfamiliar feeling of guilt hit her and she decided she should say something first.

“You don’t have to, Max…If you don’t want. This shit helps me with my nightmares.”

Max’s face seemed to light up with curiosity. Max probably wasn’t supposed to know about those, she realized. That was her own secret.

“Nightmares?” Max asked in a small voice.

Victoria ignored her question as she pulled a clean mug from a drawer at her desk. She held out an open hand for the wine cooler that Max passed back over. Thoughtfully unscrewing it, she debated whether or not to speak about them with her. She felt Max’s eyes waiting for an answer in anticipation.

“Yeah…Nathan and stuff, Jefferson…whatever fucked up shit my brain thinks about when I’m trying to catch some beauty sleep.”

She could see Max tense up quite a bit, which was odd. It was like Max was piecing together her own story in front of her very eyes.

“About…him taking photos of you or something?”

Victoria’s breath hitched in her throat. She cleared it before handing over the pink wine filled mug to the nervous brunette. Max was a pretty good guesser. Maybe that’s all that was. It wouldn’t surprise her, Max seemed to assume correctly about most people; her eyes could read a person in a matter of moments.

It terrified her and yet, Victoria wanted Max to read her.

“Maybe,” was all she could manage. Her heart began to pound uncomfortably as Jefferson’s dark eyes flashed in her memory. “Fuck, sorry, I need some more of my drink,” she mumbled as she reached quickly for her dorm room mix of cranberry and vodka.

Thankfully, Max didn’t object to her doing so. The skinny nerd stood there, doing her best to look in-check and relaxed, but her eyes looked troubled.

“I can go Victoria,” she offered.

Victoria’s heart flipped and she was confused as to why she suddenly felt so strongly against Max leaving. She didn’t need to be alone right now and Victoria was also pretty intuitive herself, and she knew Max probably shouldn’t be alone either.

Before even thinking about it she responded, “Please, don’t do that.” It sounded soft.

To cover her own weakness in the moment, she took three large gulps of liquor mixture and swallowed hard. It burned down her throat and made her eyes water. It was better if her eyes watered from alcohol instead of her incident with Zach minutes before, or because of Jefferson’s sneering gaze flashing into her mind’s eye.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” Max decided firmly.

“Sit down then, weirdo. Don’t just stand there looking like a scared puppy. I don’t bite…” Victoria gave her a dark smile, “unless, you’re into that sort of thing.”

_What the fuck are you saying that for, Victoria?_

Luckily, Max didn’t respond to the last bit and she took a tentative step toward her white couch and sat herself down, looking red in the face, sipping slowly from the wine mug.

_Oh, great. Now you scared the poor thing._

 “That’s…not what I meant, sorry, just being a dick,” Victoria covered for herself. Max’s face lost some of its embarrassment.

“I know, it’s okay,” Max waved off. She seemed to think hard for a moment before speaking again. “What happened with Zach? Are you okay? You looked really upset.”

Her heart pounded heavily. It wasn’t something she wanted to be talking about with Max fucking Caulfield, but the warmness of the liquor in her belly and the sweet yet uneasy look that Max gave her made her decide otherwise, even against her better judgment. It was a bizarre concern: What if Max joined the ranks of people who judged her for her relations?

“I probably shouldn’t even be telling you any of this, but whatever…” she began, doing her best to make her voice sound stable. “Zach came over to…you know, hook up, but I wasn’t really feeling it anymore like I thought I was. We were making out, I guess, and he tried to go further. Take my skirt off, unbutton my bra, and I froze like a fucking virgin.”

Max was listening so genuinely that it made her feel better somehow, so she continued.

“And it’s not like I don’t know how to fuck somebody, because believe me, I _do._ Anyway, he kept pushing, trying to talk dirty to me to like get me in the mood again. He called me a slut and I pushed him off of me. It wasn’t what I wanted, you know? It felt weird and gross so I told him to leave.” Her voice wavered and she brought her glass back up to her lips, swigging the remainder down her throat.

“He didn’t want to leave,” Max concluded for her.

Victoria felt the ghost of Zach’s calloused hands running all over her body, beneath her bra, scratching her nipples and she shivered. His rough lips that had nipped at her throat…she shook her head, grounding herself again.

“He got mad. Asking if he could at least get a goodbye blowjob and I kind of lost my shit.”

Max’s brows were raised in realization now as the next part was everything she had witnessed in the hallway.

“You tossed Zach out of your room, literally?” Max asked, a suppressed look of being impressed and humored played in her eyes. Max took a more comfortable gulp of her drink.

“You bet your ass I did, Caulfield.”

“Wowsers,” she breathed.

And without logic or warning, Victoria began to laugh. It was a hearty, genuine laugh that she didn’t know she even had inside of her anymore. Max followed suit, a humored grin following Victoria’s. Max’s laugh was surprisingly feminine and short-lived, but Victoria found herself wanting to hear it again.

“Him and his fucking Bigfoot football gang are the ones writing the shit on my board,” Victoria grumbled.

Her cheeks growing warm due to the drink, she got up and made herself another. A few shots of Grey Goose and a splash of cranberry. When Victoria turned around, she peered down at Max, swirling the concoction expertly in her right hand. Max looked up curiously at her and gave Victoria a sad, half smile. Max was the only person to bother erasing or changing her room board. Why would Caulfield do that? Victoria certainly deserved the mostly true messages written sloppily on the whiteboard.

_Because she’s actually a nice human being, idiot. Take a page from her book sometime._

“It’s was cool what you did—trying to change my board. I shouldn’t have been such a raging bitch about it…You were trying to be nice.” That was the most apologizing Victoria had probably done in a year. Liquid courage did that to her.

To her relief, Max looked up rather surprised and pleased with Victoria’s half-assed apology. Their eyes bore into each other for a quiet moment.

_Jesus Christ, why does she bother being kind to me when all I’ve done is make everyone’s life hell?_

She mentally waved the thought away before giving Max the most miniscule bit of a coy smile.

“Do you mind if I change out of this outfit really quick? I’m getting to the point where I need to be in pajama pants unless I want to wake up hungover with a wrinkled $1,000 Tom Ford blouse.”

Max choked on her wine and sputtered comically, quickly wiping away droplets from her mouth with the back of her hand. Even in the dim lighting of her room, Victoria could see Max’s face turn sheet white.

“One _thousand_ dollars?” She asked, incredulously. Max began peering anxiously around Victoria’s room, probably tabbing and wondering what everything costs.

Victoria stammered, “This is one of my nicer blouses, so relax. Don’t give yourself a stroke.” She attempted to back pedal. It didn’t necessarily work, because it suddenly looked like Max was too afraid to move in fear of breaking something expensive.

“Relax, goof-ball.” Victoria asked humorously.  

Victoria couldn’t help but look over Max again, probably for the third time tonight. The grey hoodie strings swayed as Max shifted forward on the couch, both elbows resting on the tops of her knees, the leather jacket accentuating and broadening her small shoulders. Max avoided her wandering gaze. It was weird, she thought, how Victoria never noticed the height of the brunette’s cheekbones or how sharp the corners of her jaw were until Max sat there, her face clenched, candlelight brushing against her features.

_And yet, she’s so soft._

“Uh, sure. Do you want me to get up and wait in the hall when you change?”

Victoria gave her a nonchalant shrug before beginning to unbutton the silky chest line of her blouse. Looking away, out the window and beyond, she gave Max the opportunity to sneak a peek at her if she so desired. Luckily for her, Max didn’t disappoint.

Max suddenly jumped to her feet, realizing she was staring. She did it in the way a newborn fawn attempted to stand and run from a threat. Victoria turned her head back around once her blouse was unbuttoned and hanging over a black, lacy bra.

“Jesus, Victoria!” Max yelled, slapping both hands over her eyes, cheeks aflame beneath them.

_Jesus is right. Why can’t I stop looking at her?_

“Well, isn’t that cute, Caulfield,” she cooed in a syrupy voice. “You’ve seen girls undress before, what’s the big deal?”

Max stood impressively still before stammering an answer. “Uh, well…I—yeah, I’ve seen _girls_ undress before, but not fucking Victoria Chase.”

_Don’t scare the virgin away, Victoria. Relax._

Feeling an edge of disappointment from her own thought, she finished changing while Max stood there covering her eyes like a toddler.

“Alright, weirdo. I’m decent, you can uncover your eyes.” Victoria meant to put a dash of venom behind her command, but it failed to come out as such.

Victoria could almost see the nervous hammering of Max’s heart, by the way she shyly avoided her green eyes, which gave her the answer to the question she had wondered earlier.

_Max does find me attractive._

The knowledge of this created a buzz deep in her stomach. Of course, most of Blackwell would agree that Victoria Chase was very attractive, yet for some reason, the knowledge that Max Caulfield did too, made it all the better. Victoria was now dressed in a silky pair of blue pajama bottoms and a tiny black tank top. She didn’t bother to throw her bra back on for at least two reasons.

Max set down her now empty mug on the coffee table to her right and straightened back up. She was now desperately attempting to keep her eyes above Victoria’s shoulders; no lower. Victoria was the type who was very good at these games once she knew somebody found her attractive. She always knew what to do and how to keep them on their toes. The only other female who had ever been smart enough to call it out, or one-up her on her own craft was none other than Rachel Amber. Victoria went through a weird, short period where Rachel made points to say sweet things to Victoria in dark corners at parties, sending her mildly suggestive texts throughout the day; the usual Rachel Amber shit. At the time, Victoria just found it fun and playful. Everybody had _gay_ moments in school, it was a liberal school, they didn’t necessarily determine anything about her though.

“Want to smoke this joint, now?” Max asked. She said it so confidently and coolly that Victoria decided that she and Chloe probably did partake in greenery. Still, Max failed to meet her eyes, ducking her head down a fraction, yet somehow still managing to avoid Victoria’s lower half.

“If you want to,” she casually tilted her head, attempting to catch Max’s attention.

When Max continued to refuse to meet her eyes, she walked a few steps nearer to the brunette. Max was about three inches shorter than her, she gathered for the first time. Planting her feet inches from Max’s, closing some distance, Victoria heard her release the softest and gentlest of gasps.

_Gotcha._

Victoria slowly reached her slender hand up toward the dazed freckled face in front of her. Max looked as if she was going to either run from the room, faint, or choke on saliva. She probably wasn’t even breathing. Max’s blue eyes were wide and Victoria could almost see the hundreds of different scenarios zooming behind them.

“Thank you,” she finally leaned in and whispered as she plucked the joint from behind her ear.

Max exhaled through her nose and Victoria was finally able to lock eyes with her. For measure and pleasure, and of course this was a signature Victoria move, she wet the gloss of her center top lip with a slow tongue while sustaining eye contact with a nearly vibrating Max, before slipping the paper rolled joint between two soft lips. It worked on men, why wouldn’t it work on an obviously bisexual girl?

Victoria took a step back, realizing that she certainly was not sober any longer. Max Caulfield had been through enough shit and she didn’t need Victoria to confuse her unnecessarily.

_WHY AM I TRYING MOVES ON FUCKING MAX CAULFIELD? THIS IS LOW, EVEN FOR ME._

There was a rise of pink in her cheeks, she could feel it through her porcelain skin, and she forced herself to turn away. She hid it well though, as Max was obviously reeling through her own head and didn’t catch the change of temperature in her cheeks.

_I probably won’t even remember a lot of tonight anyway…_

“Fuck,” Victoria murmured, joint held between two lips. “Taylor took my last fucking lighter yesterday.”

Suddenly, she heard Max ruffling through pockets on the leather jacket from behind. Feeling a soft tap to her shoulder, but not trusting herself just yet, she resisted turning around. Victoria decided on simply grabbing the lighter that was being held out over her shoulder. She stared at the billowing curtains from her opened window, and then to her own goose-bump covered arms that crossed over her chest. Victoria found herself wondering if Max was getting cold too. Tilting her head to the side, and covering half the joint from the wind with her hand, she sparked the lighter and pulled on the joint. It cherried nicely and slowly and Victoria was honestly impressed with the rolling. Victoria would bet her Porsche 911 Carerra S that Max hadn’t been the one to roll it, and she fucking loved that car.

A thought pinged into her mind after a stretch of silence, “That was your girlfriend’s jacket, wasn’t it?”

Victoria realized Max Caulfield probably didn’t carry joints and lighters around willy-nilly on Blackwell grounds. No matter how much the idea interested and disturbed Victoria. She decided she was grounded enough to be able to face Max again, so she turned back around.

A shadow of what looked scarily like despair washed over Max’s face and the brunette turned away from Victoria after handing over the lighter. She shuffled herself back to the couch and plopped down, hanging her face in her hands.

_Real fucking smart, Victoria._

“Holy shit, my bad, Max…I don’t know why I asked that. I shouldn’t have.”

Max gazed up at her from her place on the couch, eyes glossy, distant. “It’s okay. I probably look stupid, like I’m trying to be her. Chloe rocked this thing like no one else.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid. _You_ make it look really hot.”

_What the fuck._

Victoria felt a flush fall over her face, completely shaking her from her whole ‘solid’ act. She had no idea what to even say to wash away her stupid compliment other than the only thing she thought that would make her feel better about it.

“I’m sorry, Caulfield. I didn’t…I shouldn’t say half of the shit I say to you.”

Victoria could hardly stand where any of this was going, so she lit up the joint again as it had died out, pulled a few times to make sure it was cherrying, and held it out to the gloomy looking Caulfield on her couch. A swirling cloud of smoke twisted from the end of it and Max watched it carefully, considering something.

“Hand it over, Chase,” she finally huffed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that keeps everyone on their toes for a bit. I'll post the second part of this scene sometime next week. This scene was so long I had to split it. Just this chapter runs nearly 8k words. 
> 
> Friendly reminder to add a bookmark as posting will become more erratic as the story continues. Another friendly reminder to hit the boxes below and engage. Please reach out if you want to talk about the characters, shows, stories, or to just be writing pals! (You can find me on ff.net as well if you wanted to PM). 
> 
> You guys rock, thanks for reading and engaging! I'm stunned that almost 100 people have liked the story and left some kudos and/or have commented. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Oh, I posted chapter one of the other LiS Chasefield/Amberprice story I've been working on. It'd mean a lot if you stopped by to give Mad World some love.** [MAD WORLD LINK](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615637/chapters/38947202) I'm having a great time writing a darker!Max.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
>   
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	5. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max proposes a little game to find out more about the Vortex Club leader. Max and Victoria open up a bit to each other over some wine cooler and joints, letting some private feelings slip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the second part of Friday night for Max and Victoria. I keep adding and evolving things, but I hope everyone likes some bonding between two old rivals. (Pepper in some sexual tension) and you have this chapter! Leave some thoughts. I also think I accidentally finished NaNoWriMo with this story, so I'm feeling accomplished. 
> 
> By the way, I purposely made this chapter entirely from Max's POV. 
> 
> TW: Drug use, drinking, language, etc...

**CHAPTER 5:** **The Game**

* * *

 

 

**_{MAX}_ **

 

**FRIDAY; Late Evening**

Max couldn’t actually, _seriously_ , really, fully believe that she was smoking a second joint with Victoria Chase. She felt apprehensive earlier when Victoria stated they should light it, and she almost didn’t take it. Then Chloe came up and Victoria accidentally called her Max’s girlfriend. She had to sit down when a brief, yet searing memory of them saying goodbye flashed into her head; their second and very last kiss. The pain in her racing heart, the sweating of her upper lip, and the bizarre way Victoria had looked at her earlier, made her take the thing from two manicured and golden-ringed fingers of Victoria Chase.

She’d researched a bit about PTSD and possible treatments for the very real flashbacks. She had seen medical marijuana on the list and figured it might be nice to see if it helped; even if it was just once. She figured if she hated it, she could decide to never touch it again. Max never actively searched for it or attempted to buy it, but today had been one of her hardest days in a while. It was almost like Chloe Price her fucking self, presented her this gift. It actually seemed to help. Her foggy mind clicked over.

_Bet Chloe is having a blast watching me stumble through my life…_

“Max?” Victoria held it out to her again, its white curling wisps disappearing into the air.

She grabbed it with much better form this time, _thank you very much_ , and pulled on it. Max felt a dry scratch in her throat as she exhaled, and she couldn’t help but cough like a dweeb. Victoria snuck a quick glance at her face when she was smoking. She had been doing that at random quite a lot tonight. Max was… _okay, high, yeah_ …but she still knew Victoria had already been drinking when Max bumped into her in the hallway.

The whole school would sometimes whisper about Victoria’s flirtatious nature when she’d be blazed or drunk at a Vortex Party. Usually, the guys were all over her, or trying to be. She didn’t bother to know or pay attention to find out if Victoria had ever been seen talking to girls as well. Since the entirety of the school never mentioned behind cupped hands of Victoria romping around with chicks, Max gathered she was as straight as an arrow. Which was why Max couldn’t figure out if the things that occasionally slipped out of Victoria’s mouth were flirty, or if it was all just Victoria attempting to be friendlier towards Max since Victoria’s best friend killed Max’s best friend. It had to be the latter, for a few reasons she could figure.

_I mean there was a literal guy hooking up with her in her—wait…isn’t Zach dating Dana? Yikes._

“Victoria…I was wondering…if I could ask you a question?” Max asked, voice scratchy from nerves and the smoke. The joint smoke curled into the air above her fingers.

Victoria slid backwards to rest against her white couch. She relaxed her head along the back of it and blinked a few times, lost in an unreadable mood. The golden candle light flickered against the highlight of her face. Her chin was pointed in faraway thought, eyes lost before her.

_Jesus, her bone structure is really something…_

“What kind of question?” Victoria asked, swallowing quickly. Her voice was soft and distant.

Max really wanted to know things about her. Victoria Chase was a walled-up young woman. At first glance, she was scary and hot, almost like staring into a bright star even though it’d blind the onlooker. Physically hot, sure okay, but more than that—a bright, blinding aurora and presence that Max sorely lacked. Victoria Chase owned every room she walked into. Max planted herself in the distance, on the wall of the room, studying every little thing about everyone else living their lives. They were from two entirely separate lives and experiences.

Suddenly, Max didn’t really want to ask Victoria why exactly she was hooking up with Zach, even though Dana was his girlfriend. Max wanted to know why. She wanted to figure out what led her to be and do what she did. It humanized her. The humanized Victoria was somebody she actually didn’t really mind spending time with.

_I’d also like to hear her laugh again…she looks so…lost?_

“Since we’re both kind of high, do you want to play a game?” Max nearly whispered, carefully watching Victoria’s candle lit face as she slowly asked the question.

Victoria scrunched her nose gently, still staring somewhere at her stereo set-up. Her eyes however, widened slightly. She licked her lips and turned her head to see Max.

Max felt like that was what she was doing. Seeing her. Not judging her or thinking something negatively about her, just accepting and seeing. Victoria Chase was considering her proposal.

“If I play this game with you, what do I get, Caulfield?” Victoria raised a single brow.

Max rubbed her neck and shrugged. “I don’t know, what do you want?”

Victoria looked away from Max quickly and glanced up through her lashes. She brushed some blonde strays away from her eyes and clicked her tongue, finally landing on a bargain.

“If I play your little game,” Victoria locked eyes with Max, “you have to give me your opinion on some of my photos.” Victoria gave her a sweet smile that made Max blush. “I feel like that’s a fair trade.”

Max almost sighed in relief. She wasn’t exactly sure what Victoria would ask of her, but she never expected that. It was interesting. Why would Victoria suddenly care about Max’s opinion on her photography? Victoria already knew she was good, why would Max’s opinion mean shit?

“It’s a deal.” Max smiled, holding her hand out for Victoria to shake.

Victoria glanced down at Max’s hand, a bit confused. She caught Max’s goofy grin and rolled her eyes.

“A hand shake, Max? Really?” Victoria mumbled through a hidden grin.

Her slender hand slowly slid into Max’s warm palm. Victoria sat up and looked at Max through lidded eyes, her upper lip giving a small quiver.

Max couldn’t believe how soft Victoria’s hands were. Sure, if she had to guess, she’d assume as much about the Vortex Club leader, but to feel her silky palm against Max’s rough dry winter hands, was another experience.

Victoria’s eyes darted away quickly as the band of her thumb’s ring rubbed against the back of Max’s freckled hand. A small pink blush surfaced against the blonde’s cheekbones and Max realized that Victoria was mindlessly brushing her thumb against her skin.

_This is probably the longest hand shake I’ve ever had._

“Your hands…they’re surprisingly rough.” Victoria murmured, her eyes analyzing the skin of Max’s freckled hand.

Max attempted to choke out a response, but her heart was beating quickly and she almost stammered.

“Oh—Uh, I play guitar, so…” Max swallowed and comprehended that Victoria hadn’t let go just yet. “Uh, and I don’t really own fancy hand lotion or anything.” She oddly decided to add due to nerves moving her mouth for her. Max closed her eyes for a moment and her mouth opened again, “Plus… _winter_. It—it does that.”

_Oh, my God, Max. It’s just her hand. Who cares? You’re so embarrassing._

Victoria looked up then and saw Max’s perplexed face and slipped her hand away quickly. Max could have sworn that the blonde exhaled in a regretful manner.

“I think you sound pretty good when you play.” Victoria stated as nonchalantly as anyone ever could. Even though that was not a very nonchalant Victoria type statement.

Max felt her heart leap slightly in her chest.

_Victoria listens to me play sometimes? Oh, dog. Has she heard me sing too?_

Max cleared her throat and patted her joint-free hand on her chest, attempting to clear her parched throat. Victoria took one look at Max and stood up, heading towards her desk. She bent down and swung open a tiny door to a mini fridge. Pulling out a bottle of water, she gave a sad sounding chuckle.

“I didn’t mean that to sound creepy. I kind of realized just how fucking stalkerish that sounded. You just play a lot—sorry, used to play a lot and it’s kind of lonely here sometimes when I’m not bombarded by you and Kate always playing some type of obscure ass music.”

“You listen to _A Day to Remember_ ,” Max toyed at her as the blonde made strides back to the couch.

Victoria plopped down, not as gracefully as Max figured she would, set two bottles of water down. The blonde maneuvered herself into a comfortable position.

“Alright. Fair point…though, I’d argue and say that the band is hardly obscure.” Victoria teased, blinking a few times for measure. A small smile played upon her glossed lips.

The mood switched and Victoria slapped her hands together.

“So what’s this game, Caulfield? You’re not going to trick me into strip poker, are you?” A devilish grin spread across her angelic features and Max coughed.

“Strip poker? Oh, hell no,” Max wheezed between a few stray coughs.

“I didn’t mean to kill you, Max. I know that’s not what we’re doing.” Victoria covered her mouth to avoid Max from catching her humored grin. “Anyway, I guess you already got your glance tonight.”

_Alright, that was mildly suggestive._

Max instantly felt her cheeks betray her again and go red hot. Victoria seemed to catch this change in cheek color and she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. Max set the unlit joint on the table and shifted herself on the couch to turn towards Victoria.

“Okay, so no strip poker. I can deal with that.” The blonde casually shrugged.

Max eyed the unopened bottle of water that Victoria had set in front of her and grabbed it. She twisted it open, avoiding Victoria’s curious gaze and took a long drink.

_Relax, Max. It’s just a get-to-know-you game. Maybe you can piece together this mystery girl next to you._

“It’s kind of lame, but everyone always played it in middle school. Hold up five fingers, since there’s only two of us. We take turns asking each other ‘Never Have I Ever’ statements. I’ll ask one and then you’ll ask one. If the answer is yes to the questions, we put a finger down and so on. The game ends when somebody loses all five fingers.”

Victoria tensed her face and looked down at the burned joint Max sat down. She reached for it and placed it between two lips before lighting it again. Victoria took a long drag, her eyes soft and wandering before she finally looked at Max, her face once again guarded.

“Okay, but no weird stuff.” She blew out the smoke through a corner of her mouth and Max caught her face through the cloud of grey smoke.

The faintest of shy, nervous grins brightened Victoria’s shadowed face for a moment.

It was a very vague request, but Max felt like she could follow through with it.

“Yeah, no weird stuff,” Max confirmed, giving the nervous blonde a casual nod.

Victoria eyed up Max and she finally sighed, giving in to the idea. She held up her free hand and showed Max five fingers, her eyes slightly wary.

“Okay, you start it,” she breathed, closing her eyes for a moment. She waggled her fingers in front of her.

Max held up her right hand, directly across from Victoria. She didn’t want Victoria to stress about a minor game that Max and her middle school friends used to play. At the same time, another different part of Max wanted to know more about this layered girl sitting across from her.

_The slightly wounded, beautiful, aching girl that secretly wants human connection._

Max found it dangerously fascinating.

Victoria slowly opened her eyes, fully composed, no longer nervous, ready to go through with it.

“Alright,” Max cleared her throat, “Never have I ever received a detention.”

_Always have to start easy._

Victoria, looking somewhat surprised, lowered her eyes at Max. The blonde seemed to find an answer, or ground herself better and shifted her hand, preparing to answer.

“Not exactly what I thought you would ask, but okay…”

Victoria gave Max a pointed look before tucking her thumb into her palm. Four fingers remained.

Max raised a brow and found this curious. She wondered who had the galls to give Victoria Chase a detention. Max figured most rich kids managed to get out of trouble pretty easily, given her experiences with Nathan. She pictured a shorter, younger version of the girl in front of her sitting in a room surrounded by the characters that could commonly be seen in high school detention rooms.

Victoria caught Max’s intrigued look and sighed. “I got detention for putting gum in this girl’s hair back in ninth grade. I served detention for a week. She was giving my boyfriend hand jobs in her father’s Jacuzzi.”

Max couldn’t help the scrunched-up way her face reacted after Victoria said that. It was weird. She was reading books and watching anime when she was fifteen, not doing things like that in _Jacuzzis._

“Oh, that’s so gross,” Max crinkled her nose.

Victoria shrugged, obviously over whatever it was that happened then and bit her corner lip, searching for a question to ask. She looked down at the joint in her hand and held it out to Max. Grabbing it carefully, Max held it up to her mouth and pulled lightly, already feeling the head high waves from the marijuana.

“Never have I ever had a boyfriend,” Victoria landed on finally, her face casual and cool. Her voice seemed a bit different in delivery.

Max thought back for a moment and shrugged, exhaled, and wound up lowering her finger on her held up free hand.

“Had a few, mostly short lived, grade school type of stuff. The most significant was this kid back in Seattle named Tommy. He was nice, but a bit too much like me. Shy, awkward, disconnected…we sort of bonded over that until we realized it was five months later and all we did was sit in silence watching movies.”

Victoria leaned forward, a curious look in her eye. “He didn’t do it for you, did he?”

“Do it for me?” her heart stopped.

“Yeah, get your heart all stupid fluttery, make your stomach squirm— _interest you_?” she hummed, a glint in her eye.

Max felt an embarrassed shade reach her pale face and she did her best to hide her face under her hair. Her stomach felt like it was hovering in her throat.

“I—I guess not. I mean, boys are fine, they’re hot. He just wasn’t it.” Max took another pull on the very end of the joint. Her throat tickled and she felt herself begin to sweat slightly. Once it died out and it was a sad nub, Max set it in the ash tray carefully.

“ _Boys are fine…_ ” Victoria echoed to herself, nodding her head in thought.

Feeling a bit of relief and courage from the new wave of head high, she lifted her head and shook some hair out of her eyes. Victoria observed her intently, as if she was edging Max on.

“Never have I ever hated being a single child.” Max asked in a more secured voice.

Victoria seemed to lose her cool and shifted uncomfortably in her corner of the couch. Her slender pointer finger lowered.

“It fucking sucks, if I’m being honest. Nobody else…gets the shit I have to deal with at home. You know? The icy looks, the awkward sober family conversations, the sticky notes left on the marbled counter top congratulating you on getting into a good art program. It’s rich, robotic perfection. Anything that doesn’t fit that beautiful, expected image is dangerous…slanderous to the Chase name.” Victoria shook her head and let out a pitiful scoff. “You’d think for being art collectors and shit that they wouldn’t have such large sticks up their asses, but they all do.” Victoria lowered her voice—soft, vulnerable, “they _all_ do.”

Max could tell this was a bit of a sore subject for Victoria. She never really thought about what type of parents Victoria had, but hearing that they didn’t seem to be around too much made a lot of sense to Max. It pieced together some of the explanation for her icy attitude that she was famous for.

Victoria reached out for her own bottle of water and took a small swig. She eyed Max as she slowly twisted the top back onto the bottle, thinking of all the things she could probably learn about the bruised brunette. Max could tell how intensely Victoria seemed to be thinking of her questions.

_Did Victoria want to know more things about me, too?_

“Okay, I’ve got one…Now, try not to blush on me, hipster.” She teased, adjusting the strap of her black, tiny cami with a manicured hand. “Never have I ever thought about taking a scandalous _selfie_.”

Max raised both dark eyebrows in surprise. She couldn’t tell if her cheeks got red or not, but by the way Victoria’s lips spread into a pleased smile, it seemed that may have been the case.

“I told you not to blush,” Victoria snapped the strap of her cami against a smooth shoulder and raised a single, slick brow. Max couldn’t exactly read her face well or decipher what kind of vibe the blonde was giving off.

But Max was buzzing.

Thinking back on the answer to the scandalous selfie question, she did the safe thing and decided to just keep to the truth. Max exhaled, feeling defeated and lowered another one of her fingers. She and Victoria both had two of the five fingers lowered.

Upon doing so, Victoria’s corner lip gave a satisfied smirk and her eyes darkened for a fraction of a moment. “Well, I have to say I’m a little surprised. I wasn’t sure if this pure, innocent thing of Max Caulfield would have ever thought about something as naughty as taking a scandalous selfie.”

Max stammered, her heart racing, “To be fair, the thought was more so for art than anything else. Nobody else would ever see it. I obviously never _took_ it.”

Victoria opened her mouth, blinked a few times and seemingly settled on a response. “Kind of a shame, but _whatever_ next question.”

Max tried not to think or analyze Victoria’s response for too long because she knew that it’d probably drive her down a weird rabbit hole of thoughts.

“Never have I ever met a movie star.” Max asked, wanting to stick to a bit of a safer question after Victoria threw her a curveball.

_Okay, did she really just say what I think she said?_

Victoria scoffed and rolled her eyes, lowering her middle finger.

_Maybe Victoria feels bad that I chickened out about doing it. Why else would that be a ‘shame’?_

“Of course I have. My parents tried to get me into kid-modeling when I was younger. Had me audition for a few commercials—got their director buddy to give me an audition for some lame sci-fi movie with a big star.” Victoria brushed hair from her face, looking annoyed. “That was until they heard the rumors about this guy being a fucking pervert. Then they yanked that kid star plan right at the roots. I never had the range for that type of shit anyway, if we’re being completely truthful. I don’t think there’s—there’s not an honest bone in my body.”

Max frowned and rubbed at her jaw. “I don’t think that’s true, Victoria. You’re being honest now.”

Victoria locked eyes with Max for what felt like the longest five seconds of her life. An unfamiliar look of wonder washed across her chiseled, well-bred features before a suspicious darkening crept into her green eyes. Max realized then that she wanted to challenge her.

“How do you figure that, Max? I could be bullshitting everything and you would never know. No offense, but bullshitting is my specialty.”

Max looked down at her lowered fingers, tilted her head slightly in thought and shook her head. Max was good at only a few things: photography, eating cereal, and being nosey. The perks of being nosey were the little things she discovered about people, helping her place the puzzle pieces of them in the right spots in her head.

“I know you’re not bullshitting me.”

Max’s blue eyes bore into Victoria’s dark green. The wind whistled through the room and Max found herself shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the look Victoria was giving her now. It was calculated, knowing, and a bit sad. Max wondered what she was really thinking.

Her smile was sad, “Then you’re not as good of a bullshit detector as you think.” She sighed and waved her hand, blowing away whatever was just storming in her mind. “Alright, never have I ever wanted to be in the Vortex Club.”

Victoria pulled her lips into a slight grimace. It was like she was sorry for asking it. Max found this odd.

“Oh, well…” Max pondered and lowered another finger to Victoria’s satisfaction.

“I knew it,” Victoria breathed gently.

“Okay, okay…It’s not like that. It just seems nice to be able to have a bunch of different friend options and hang out with them in one place. Maybe if the group was a bit less…aloof, I guess. There’s a lot of people that would probably be good for the club, mellow it out… show you guys how to party with nothing but a bag of Cheetos and a couple liters of cherry Pepsi. Plus, who knows maybe the club will grow into something better—,”

“Relax, Max. I won’t tell anyone that you’ve secretly wanted to be in the Vortex Club. I was just curious, I guess. I know the club can kind of be a bit…lofty and not your style. However, I’m sure if you felt like joining, you’d get in.”

Max raised a suspicious brow, “Oh, yeah? Says you.”

Victoria straightened her posture. “Yeah, says _me_ the president of that hot mess of a group. What I say goes, always.”

Max shivered again, “Always?”

Victoria nodded, “With…Nathan gone, it’s all on me. I see what it has turned into and I’m not always sure that I’m—,” Victoria grumbled and ran a hand down her face subconsciously. “I’m not sure I always love what it’s become, I guess.”

This surprised Max. The Vortex Club was one of Victoria Chase’s proudest labels. Sometimes it was hard for Max to separate the Vortex Club and the people within it. It was almost as if their misbehavior tainted Max’s opinions of those in it. It was wrong she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling a grudge against them for the things that they’ve done in this timeline and the timeline she had with Chloe. Kate still had things hanging over her because of what Blackwell’s elite club put her through. It almost made her feel guilty for lowering a finger, admitting that the club had been something she thought would be cool at some point.

Rolling her neck, she lowered her hand of three outstretched fingers and grabbed the pillow behind her. Victoria watched her curiously. Max tucked it into her lap and fiddled with the silky, decorative ends of the pillow.

“Why do you do it then?” Max asked as soft as she could muster.

She braced herself for Victoria to get angry at her, she was digging too deep, but she made sure Victoria understood in what context she asked it.

_What are you doing, Max? No more marijuana for you!_

Victoria, taken aback, pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her knees under her pointed, serious chin. Her face was careful, but distant from what it was earlier. Her slim fingers rubbed her knees as her eyes looked down at her bare feet on the couch.

_Victoria looks so small._

Victoria cleared her throat, her voice a bit lower in range than she was used to hearing it.

“I don’t know what else to do.” She mumbled, keeping her eye low.

Max felt a bubble in her gut, something like bitterness. The confidence of the swirling chemicals in her system allowed her to ask the question she had been wondering. A wipe of frustration for Victoria hit her.

“You don’t have to be the way you present, you know? You’ve got the talent, _the whole looks thing_ , the confidence, the class, the edge, the mystery to be a really great artist. You have everything, Victoria. _Why_ do those mean things?”

Victoria straightened quickly and glared down at Max’s hunched over form around the pillow.

“I’m probably a little too buzzed to talk about anything like that with _you._ ” She spat, her eyes beginning to water with the threat of oncoming tears.

Max sat up and looked at Victoria, her eyes softening. The blonde still had her figure tucked into the small corner of the couch. Still, the blonde was controlling the environment of the conversation. She knew Victoria needed to have control of where the conversation went and how it got there, but at this moment, Max needed that control.

“Maybe that’s why you should talk to me. I’m listening.” Max gave her a gentle, harmless grin. “It’s just us.”

Victoria reached up and wiped a stray drifting of tears away and scoffed.

“I don’t know who else to be, Max Caulfield. This—,” she motioned to herself, “this is what I am. What you see is what you get. I know how I am taken outside of this room. I know where I place on the hierarchy, I know what is expected of me, I know how I am supposed to look. I know exactly who Victoria Chase is and who she will be.”

She slid deeper into the safety net of the couch backing and stared off toward her dorm room door. Her eyes began to look shiny again. Max gulped and felt the melancholy tension in the room heighten. Whatever playful air that was there earlier, dissolved. Victoria let her knees rock side-to-side as she pondered, attention somewhere up inside of her mind. Her knees stilled and she brought her gaze back to Max on the couch between them. Her green eyes looked nervous, cautious, deep.

“I thought I did—at least. I _thought_ I _knew_. Maybe I don’t anymore.”

And her statement radiated through Max’s being like a bright church bell on a Sunday morning. She understood. She even empathized.

“I understand,” Max offered the small frame of Victoria.

Max felt nerves buzzing in her gut again. She wanted to comfort Victoria somehow, reach out and let her know she really understood.

“I learned though…with all of this,” she motioned vaguely in the air, “that we are always changing. Pushed onwards by some type of omnipotent force—God maybe, I don’t know, I’ve been trying to figure it out; we are all a giant combination of experiences built into little packs of people. Other people are adding more blocks to our specific nature than others. You can build your foundation. You can choose what materials to borrow and what to give back.”

“What if your foundation is already there with materials you don’t necessarily want to use anymore?” Victoria asked gently, eyes burning into Max’s.

Max reached up and smoothed the back of her head, pondering. The answer was really quite simple, yet the execution was always another story.

“Then you rebuild.”

Victoria blinked a bit quicker than usual and Max could have sworn she heard a small sniffle.

“You’re not entirely the worst, you know,” she hummed behind her shield of kneecaps. The blonde gave her a fractured, sad smile. “You’re actually sickeningly kind and extremely observant and thoughtful.”

Max’s cheeks grew warm again and she stood up, needing some space to process the genuine compliment from the heiress in the tank-top.

Max sighed and rubbed her hands together, knowing Victoria and she both preferred to steer away onto a different subject. “Let’s forget about the rest of the game, what photo did you want me to look at?”

Her eyes were a little dry and she grabbed her bottle of water and took a long drink as the mood shifted in the room. Upon standing up, Max realized how toasted she had accidentally gotten. Apparently standing took everything up a level. She had never been high on purpose before. It was weird though, the nerves that rattled her earlier all day had seemed to slow their buzzing at least. The two candles on the coffee table that flickered their orange light against the darkness of the bedroom, dazzled her. Overall though, her mind seemed to calm itself.

She and Victoria were actually kind of getting along, without any egos.

Victoria stood up as well, a bit slowly, as she probably felt the slowing of her body due to the different chemicals, and reached for her camera on her desk. Max stared at Victoria as they stood across from one another between the coffee table and the couch. Different shadows danced along their quiet, hesitant faces.

A weight lifted in the room and Max felt herself start to smile. She let out a laugh.

“I think I accidentally smoked too much of that.” Max gestured to the table where the extinguished roaches sat. “That’s so weird everyone calls them roaches.”

Victoria let out a humored scoff and plopped back down onto her couch, expensive camera in hand.

“Just don’t puke on me or anything, Caulfield. If you feel like puking, go to the bathroom down the hall.”

Max shook her head and sat back down into the couch next to the blonde, thankful that the world seemed a bit more grounded from a sitting position.

“Are you kind of… _you know_ right now?” Max asked, a bit self-conscious about coming off as a newbie to the whole smoking thing.

Victoria turned her head and rolled her eyes at Max, “Well, yeah, I’ve been drinking and smoking since 8 o’clock. Anyway, come look at these.” Victoria patted the small amount of cushion directly next to her.

Max looked side to side, wondering if she should get any closer. Finally, after Victoria sighed, Max scooted directly next to the blonde as she began to ramble on about photography. There was no doubt that photography was Victoria’s element.

Victoria was hunched over, holding her expensive DSLR in both palms, cradling it carefully with slender hands, flicking through some photos. Max shifted to turn to Victoria, to let her know she was paying attention, and watched as she flicked through certain photos, chatting softly about elements in the image. Victoria had then asked Max if she could get her opinion on a few shots and they both had a surprisingly pleasant conversation about making art. Max was enamored by the discussion with Victoria, for she was being genuine, her ‘Queen Bee’ façade—faded. Max always knew Victoria spoke well, but the eloquence in her relaxed, confident voice when speaking on the beauty of capturing moments that would, without photography, be completely lost in time like star dust, sent shivers down her spine.

Victoria’s question pulled Max out of her own thoughts.

“I can’t tell if I should pull this in RAW, mess with the exposure and shadow a bit…maybe brighten up the face a little more or go and darken all the blacks, the shadows—reduce that contrast and change the entire mood than originally intended,” Victoria thoughtfully brushed some stray blonde hairs from her temple, deep in artist mode.

_Her eyelashes are so long. Are they real?_

Max blinked and peered down at the image on the small screen of the DSLR over Victoria’s shoulder. Her perfume would occasionally grace her sense of smell. It was floral, an interesting contrast of soft and sharp and it smelled like one spritz cost more than a whole meal.

“Oh…that’s really nice. Hold on, can you zoom in on the girl’s left eye?” Max asked, using her pinky as a guide on where she wanted to see. Victoria obliged and zoomed a few times, the tiny clicks of the camera controls filled the silence. She tilted the screen toward Max.

_It’s sharp as a fucking tack._

She wondered earlier why Victoria didn’t just go fetch the laptop from her desk to show her the image. Max didn’t bring it up to her though, as she didn’t know the best way to see a shot from a DSLR. All Victoria shot with were expensive DSLRs, so Max figured that if anyone knew, it was probably her.

Victoria’s knee had been resting against the side of Max’s right lower thigh for the last few minutes during their conversation. Max did her best to not act weird about it. It had been weeks since somebody had sat that close to her for such an extended amount of time. It felt weirdly nice, sitting there stoned on the white couch talking about photography. She couldn’t recall a time where she and Victoria had sat aside their chilly, academy hierarchy differences to discuss art side-by-side.

Max knew the answer to the blonde’s question about what to do with the photograph. “Well, uh…I’d say that because these eyes are in such great focus _here_ , and the top strays of hair _there_ look really awesome in the wind movement you captured skillfully. I’d maybe brighten the face up to hold focus on the subject. Don’t even bother taking time with balancing of colors. I mean, you have captured the perfect color temperature of her dark skin tone straight off the card. It’s actually…a really fucking good portrait, Victoria. She looks like she’s dreaming.”

The portrait was taken of a beautiful, high cheek-boned woman with natural hair that danced in an autumn breeze. Her eyes were slightly looking off frame dreamily and peacefully. Victoria peered up from the DSLR screen through those long eyelashes and for the first time, the most honest of soft smiles spread along her face, without judgment of it being there.

_Is this who Victoria actually is?_

“Don’t change the mood of this at all, no way. I can see you within this piece,” Max decided. And it was all true, it was a good photo even if she and Victoria had different styles. A lot of Victoria’s art pieces were sharp-edged, calculated, but this was a bit different than her usual tastes. This was warmer, there was a feeling being displayed.

Victoria hadn’t even peered back down at her own photo once to analyze what Max was talking about. Her green eyes had only watched Max’s face as she talked, her eyes sometimes following the shapes of the words on Max’s lips.

_Ha, Victoria must be pretty high after all._

“Max, I hope you take your hipster photos again—when you’re ready, obviously. I mean I get it, not wanting to after all of this _shit_. I gotta admit though, you do have some style. You’d probably nail this monster camera in ten minutes.”

Max felt a soft pressure near her collarbone and she looked down at the lapel of the leather jacket, startled to see Victoria’s slender hand there. Victoria must have grabbed onto it gently at some point during their discussion, now stroking the leather with the thumb of her left hand thoughtfully.

_Wait, how long have we been sitting like this?_

It was weird, probably all due to the chemicals swimming in her body by now, but Max didn’t feel nervous or weird about it. If anything, puzzled. Her brain caught up with Victoria’s last statement.

_Wait, how does she know that I stopped taking my photos?_

Victoria’s eyes met hers and she easily seemed to read her quizzical look. The pixie haired blonde rolled her eyes, dropping her hand away. It brushed against Max’s upper thigh and her heart began to beat a little faster.

“You don’t carry around your big, stupid dinosaur camera anymore. It’s honestly a bit weird seeing Max _“Wallflower”_ Caulfield without it. Who is going to take photos of all the Blackwell squirrels now, hmm?” Victoria gave her a mischievous grin and brought her face closer. Max could almost count every long eyelash if she felt like it.

Max inhaled sharply, “Uh, well…If you want to get technical for that answer—my squirrel friends are all hiding and getting their hibernation on, so there are no squirrels to photograph.”

Victoria gave an airy snort accompanied by a stifled, humorous grin. Yellow reflections of candle light danced in her pupils and Max couldn’t help but think that it’d make an excellent shot.

“That’s not fucking funny, Caulfield. I’m serious. As much as it pains me to say, you have a butt-load of talent. Are you going to allow yourself to get rusty and _uninspired_?”

Max leaned forward a fraction and raised a brow teasingly in Victoria’s face, ignoring her subtle concern.

“I know you thought the squirrel thing was funny.” She reached across Victoria’s arms and grabbed the DSLR swiftly from her grasp and switched it on all in one, quick, teasing move. Max held it up to her right eye, focused it and snapped a portrait before Victoria could cover her face.

“Are you fucking _serious_ , hipster?”

Max dodged Victoria’s half-hearted attempts at grabbing back the camera while bringing it up in preview to see. The photo was, to her amazement, striking.

“Oh, wow,” she exhaled.

Against the dark background of the image, Victoria’s face glowed in bronze candle light. The shadows accentuated her high cheekbones and perfectly shaped nose, while the flicker of candle glow highlighted the soft raise of her eyebrow and the shine of her blonde hair. Her smooth lips were parted and her green eyes had tiny flames within their pupils.

Irritated, Victoria pulled the expensive camera away from Max, her cheeks pink. She looked at the photo and was quiet for a second. Her shoulders then slumped forward before she switched off the camera.

“You took it in _automatic_ mode and it still somehow turned out fucking _good_. I can’t even believe that shit.” Annoyance with a drop of sadness filled her voice. Victoria didn’t have her body turned toward Max anymore.

Max wondered what she just did wrong, they were getting along well a second ago.

_Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her camera and did that._

“What do you mean? You’re the one that made the photo fucking good. You look…” Max started, wondering if she should even say anything. The warm wine cooler in her blood and the two joints full of THC edged her brain and courage onward. “I mean, you seriously look incredible not just in that random shot but, like, all the fucking time without even trying. Have you seen yourself the way we all do?”

Suddenly, the short, sweet breaths of Victoria Chase warmed her lower right cheek. Victoria had twisted back around; their faces, maybe an inch or so apart.

Max felt brave and didn’t jump or flinch away, even though she kind of wanted to. Her stomach squirmed, her lower lip began to quiver in nervousness.

_What is she going to do? Yell at me about how un-pretty she is?_

Max tensely licked her dry lips. Did she say something totally wrong? Feeling abnormally bold, Max dauntlessly angled her head upward to try and catch the look on Victoria’s face. A hungry flash appeared in Victoria’s eyes and Max gulped. She wasn’t going to let Victoria try to intimidate her, if that’s what this was.

Max moved her face a fraction of an inch closer.

Their noses touched, brushing softly.

_Oh, fuck!_

Stumbling gracelessly backwards off the couch, the back heel of her converse caught a table leg when she flew to her feet. Max quickly discovered herself falling before catching her own momentum with the edge of the couch and the low coffee table corner. Her left knee soared upward and smacked against her cheekbone and she suffered a jolt of pain. To top off the entire moment, a fallen candle rolled away, spilling hot wax all over the few fashion magazines scattered across the table in its wake.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Caulfield!” Victoria cried out, chasing the rogue candle with two desperate, inebriated hands. “What the _fuck?_!”

Max cupped the sore side of her face and shot to her feet, heart beating faster than it had in months.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—,”

Victoria’s head snapped up viciously, nostrils flared with the oncoming storm of irate tears. A burning, mortified shade of red painted her face. Her once bright eyes, were now dark and lethal. She looked horrified.

_I did something very wrong._

“Get the fuck _out_ before you catch my room on fire, queerio!” She snarled through perfect, white teeth.

Victoria Chase didn’t have to demand Max’s exit twice. She practically ran to the door, slamming it behind her, heaving panicked breaths.

_What the actual **hell** was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> So...did they almost kiss? Who is to say?
> 
> Everyone say hoorah for a very long fic! Send vibes to help me continue on. You guys are great, thanks for the words/comments/kudos/likes/read whatever else.
> 
> Don't forget to drop by my other LiS story "Mad World" and check it out. 
> 
> Thanks, folks!
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	6. Cashmere Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria starts to remember certain things from her time spent with Max and those few joints and drinks. She sees her drunk texts. Max has some trouble in public and finds herself on edge, when a very certain someone in a red sports car pulls up to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, folks!
> 
> It's a bit later in the week and day than I normally post, but alas, it is here. Thanks to everyone who leaves a comment or kudos. You guys are so dope! (As Chloe would lovingly say). I'm coming up closer to the end, so I hope you'll let me know your thoughts! Throw fruit cakes into the comment box if you like this chapter, haha.
> 
> TW: Drug/Drinking use/mention. (PTSD flashback with harsh descriptions too). 
> 
> HAPPY READING!

**CHAPTER 6:** **Cashmere Sickness**

* * *

 

 

_**{VICTORIA}** _

 

**SUNDAY; Afternoon**

 

Victoria had a very weird, unusually heavy feeling at the base of her gut. It had been there since Saturday morning after she had pulled open her mascara encrusted eyelashes to see the swirling and shifting room around her. She woke up on the couch, her abdomen encircled round a posh, decorative pillow. She was shivering in her black tank top and her room felt like it was forty degrees Fahrenheit.

Victoria probably laid there shivering on the couch, her mind foggy, temples pulsating with a terrible migraine, for over an hour. She breathed through her mouth to fill her empty, quaking stomach with air.

 _What did I do last night?_ She had thought gloomily.

She wasn’t sure why, but she was certain she had done something. There were plenty of mornings where Victoria had woken up hungover after a blackout with the evidence being mascara stained cheeks. Saturday morning was another one to add to her list of disappointments.

A vivid visual of Max clutching her bruised face in horror, her eyes wider than saucers, took her by surprise. Victoria had to roll off the couch and crawl to her trashcan to upheave the red tinted sick of liquor. She sat there next to the trash, sipping bottled water and wracking her memory for the bits and pieces nearly the entire Saturday afternoon.

Slowly, foggy, unfinished bits began to fit into her memory like one of those 1,000 pieced bargain bin puzzles. She had drunk Grey Goose ( _a decent amount_ ), Zach came over, she threw _shoes_ at him…

 _And Max was there…_ the light bulb flickered on.

Victoria knew that she had drank some more after that, but couldn’t recall how much more. Her head was killing her, but she continued to attempt to piece her evening back together.

 _You invited Max over into your room, you stupid bitch._ She recalled.

Victoria picked her head up from between her knees, still hovering beside the trash and saw little, odd smudges in her dorm carpet. Crawling forward like an apprehensive, sickly child, she reached out and scratched a spot with a red, manicured nail. Her eyes caught sight of the candles on her coffee table and she felt that piece of the puzzle lock into her head. It was candle wax. Beyond those, forgotten on the table was a silver, metal ashtray and two joint roaches surrounded by ashes.

_Did I smoke with…Max Caulfield?_

Suddenly, her stomach twitched and she had to race back to the trashcan.

_I did. I smoked with Caulfield._

Victoria had spent the rest of her Saturday bundled up, asleep in her bed, plagued by intense, visual dreaming and the occasional vomiting session. She was too sick to care about the freezing temperature of her room to close her window Friday night into all of Saturday, she was now absolutely regretting her idiotic, still-drunken lack of motive to do so today by Sunday.

Victoria felt like fucking shit. She was aching all over, her nose was stuffed, her forehead was burning in temperature… because of her own drunken escapades, she gave herself the flu. Or what she could tell, was the flu. She didn’t think she was still hungover two days later.

This Sunday morning, Victoria had rolled out of bed, still entirely exhausted from her body acting up and sleeping poorly, she finally threw herself into a much needed, 45 minute, steaming hot shower. She felt like she needed to cleanse herself of whatever she must have done on Friday night. She knew she didn’t fuck Zach, she knew she offered Max some wine cooler, but she didn’t know why she couldn’t really grapple much after the second joint. The rest of the night hanging with the leather jacket wearing geek flashed in blurs or feelings. Only very fleeting, out of context visuals came up:

_Max with a joint behind her ear. Max making a joke about squirrels, with her naïve little hipster bullshit face giving Victoria soft and shy smiles._

None of it had made much sense to Victoria. She knew, however, that Max looked good and made her feel good that night after Caulfield refused to leave her alone after Victoria’s intense departure with Zach. What made even littler sense was the way her stomach fluttered due to those stupid flashing, pop-ups. Her head was like a virus soaked computer, none of them were reliable or necessarily truthful, just fucking aggravating; getting in the way of her brain’s normal working processes.

All Victoria knew was that the drop in her gut did not go away. She dreaded thinking of what she might have done, as it gave her anxiety like nothing else. She hadn’t seen Max at all Saturday obviously, or this morning. Victoria wasn’t even sure if she was still on campus.

Victoria’s phone vibrated loudly against her desk, pulling her out of her own head. She hadn’t bothered to really look at her phone. Ignoring all the messages sent to her by her Seattle college friends seemed to be the best option, including the ignoring of the annoying, bullshit texts constantly sent back and forth between by Vortex Club about their own home parties.

She failed to tell any of them about her holiday imprisonment at Blackwell Academy, thanks to her asshole father, and figured she better rip the whole Band-Aid off now, before they all started spreading rumors about some shit or another. She knew how they thought and worked, as she was one of them.

Grabbing her phone and plunking back down on her bed, she paused the movie playing on her MacBook that she had been watching for the past hour and a half. It wasn’t that great of a movie anyway.

Swarms of texts, snaps, Instagram tags, and pokes scrolled down her screen.

“I go into hiding for one whole day and the fucking world burns,” she mumbled to herself. She pulled a tissue from her desk and gently patted beneath her running nose.

First, she dealt with the Instagram tags, comments, and messages. They were the easiest to get through. Then she poked back a few of the hot guys from her hometown, just to let them know she was still around. Lastly, she sighed scrolling through her texts, deciding on the ones she would respond to.

 **T-BABY:** Vic, girl, what the hell is up!!! I’m at this party with this cute guy im going to send u a pic to see what u think ;)

**[ONE ATTACHMENT]**

Victoria tapped the sent image from Taylor and a brooding brunette with curly hair, standing in a kitchen with a beer, popped up on her screen.

 **T-BABY:** fuck he has a gf tho…for now lol I know you like brunettes. I gave him ur number no need to thank me

 **T-BABY:** Viiiiicccc?? Bitch why the frick are you ignoring me!! Sorry that I gave out ur number if ur mad about that

 **T-BABY:** Zach just texted Logan and told him u tossed him out of ur room. holy crap! U good?

 **T-BABY:** if u don’t answer me I swear ill send ur nudes out to the school

 **T-BABY:** girl im srsly worried, call me!

 **T-BABY:** VICTORIA MARIBETH CHASE IT IS FRIDAY NIGHT AND U R NOWHERE TO BE FOUND

 **T-BABY:** stop ignoring me or I will seriously send your lingerie nudie to that geek Caulfield

Victoria’s heart thumped louder and she dreadfully scrolled downward to read her own messy, badly typed replies. Victoria and drunk texting were an unfortunate thing that often occurred.

 **VICTORIA:** some thins wrong with me twylor

 **T-BABY:** omg ur alive!!  <3 are u alright? what are u talking about?

 **VICTORIA:** im safe. But i think kinf of wanted to kiss a girl tonight.

_Oh, my God…_

Victoria dropped her phone and covered her own gaping mouth. Black circles began to bubble over her vision and the beating of her chest began to quicken and tighten. Reaching out clumsily, she grabbed the edge of her desk.

_In for eight counts…hold for five…release for ten… Relax, Victoria. In for eight counts…hold for five…release for ten… Relax, Victoria… It’s fine, you’ll figure this out._

Victoria plopped against her desk and forced herself to intake another breath. Her cheeks were wet when she buried her hot face in her hands, nose beginning to run.

“Oh, my god. What did I say to her?” her voice was soft and quivering.

Victoria suddenly knew very damn well what she could have revealed to Taylor over text. She tried to focus on steady breathing when a good percentage of Friday night clicked into place thanks to her own stupid drunken messaging. She recalled Max being very sweet to her, ungodly decent even, in the way she stuck around to keep Victoria from falling into a full-scale mental breakdown. The way Max’s freckles spread along her cheekbones when she laughed. The deep, knowing ocean blue of her compassionate eyes…

_Victoria Maribeth Fucking Chase…you’re coming off pretty gay for Max Caulfield right now, the literal girl you used to bully._

Of course she’d do something so ridiculous. _Of course_ she would.

Victoria hadn’t tried hard enough to keep her away with the jabs, the cold, rehearsed looks, the reminders of hierarchy. Caulfield's gift of weaseling her way through people’s emotional mazes to get to the center was a superpower the brunette possessed. It was too difficult to be pseudo-angry at her photography talent all the time, to pick on her thrift store clothes, even when Victoria thought some of it was unexpectedly trendy—It was too challenging to overlook the warmth that Max infected her with. It never used to be this complicated; she used to know exactly what her opinions of Max Caulfield were and what they should be. Now, she couldn’t convince her brain that Max was just another nobody. Her brain and body were betraying her.

Victoria gained enough composure to lift the phone back up with apprehensive, shaky hands. She continued browsing her text messages with Taylor, hoping nothing more extreme took place.

 **VICTORIA:** I fudk it up tay. i scared her away

 **T-BABY:** ok… don’t text anyone else tonight Victoria, ok!!?? I know how ur drunk ass does things to get ur sober self in trouble. Go straight to bed now. Its totally cool u think that chicks are hot. Its normal. Not weird. fuck wat anyone thinks. go to bed pls call me when u want to talk about it or need me 2 call friend for u

 **VICTORIA:** I cant like chicks

Her breath shuddered in her chest as she caught Taylor’s last message:

 **T-BABY:** ur secret is safe with me always

Taylor’s text hit her like a cascading rock slide to the chest.

And then Victoria wept. She wept like she had never cried before. All the avoiding, all the daft denials, all the hook-ups that helped her run from the truth which she suppressed so far down deep to her core, she never even fathomed it still existed. Everything she built for the recognition of her parents and friends, the life she figured she would have: one hot boring husband and their singular child suddenly and viciously disappeared. She couldn’t erase this like she erased everything else. This was now tangible, graspable, and out in the open.

_And I did it to myself._

Victoria sobbed until she was on empty and the clear disgusting snot of illness and sorrow dried on her lips. This was not something she could easily back pedal out of. No number of icy glares, stiff postures, or financial status could fix the truth that came pouring out that night.

_I’m my own worst fucking enemy._

Her mind, aching, tired, foggy—drifted to her neighbor across the hall. It terrified her. _Max_ terrified her. Victoria felt her hands begin to shake.

_What did I do to her?_

All she knew was that she had ‘ _scared her away’_. Which couldn’t mean anything good for either of them. That was why it was always better to keep everyone miles away, so she could stand in the middle of her own fucking eye of the storm—to scream and destroy what she wanted without worrying about hurting those around her. She could climb to the top after the destruction had been done.

Victoria took in a deep, long inhale, before continuing a few rounds of breathing exercises before she became too upset again. She had to think clearly and fast. She didn’t know if Max Caulfield decided to talk to anyone about Friday night and if she did, she wasn’t too sure any of it would be positive on her image.

_What do I do? Do I confront her and demand she never say a word about anything or else face serious consequences?_

She found herself wincing at her own viciousness. That let her know that route probably wasn’t the correct course of action.

_Do I write her an email and attempt to explain whatever I did that night?_

Waving it away, she didn’t want to pull a Michael Chase on Max by sending her a cold, calculated email with no emotion at all.

The next thought hit her so suddenly, she found it so foreign and surprising that she knew the only person who could plant a notion like that was a very particular brunette with ocean eyes.

_I could just say I’m sorry._

It sounded so simple. As if Victoria Chase could wait until Max came back up to campus after break and tell her _sorry_. The idea seemed ridiculous, but it was the best idea she had so far. Possibly, the only idea that would work on Max Caulfield given the type of person she was.

_I put myself here…and I can fix it._

Victoria Chase grimaced her face, pulled herself up from the floor, grabbed her shower caddy and supplies and headed into her personal therapy room. If she was going to practice any kind of apology, hiding beneath the boiling stream of the shower seemed the most comfortable place to do so.

 

* * *

_**{MAX}** _

 

**SUNDAY; _Same day_ ; Early Evening**

 

Max pressed her aching head against the rattling window of the city bus. The air from the window ahead of her blew gently onto her face, the salty ocean winds mixed with the diesel smell of the engine brought her a peculiar comfort. The warmth from the unexpected peak of sunlight that casted down onto her face through the window felt good. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling all of Arcadia Bay’s familiar scents while the sun warmed her cheeks.

The bus hit a pothole and her left earbud fell into her lap. She opened her eyes and looked down at it.

“Fishing District!” the bus driver called out up ahead.

There were about six people on the bus, so it felt odd that he felt the need to yell anything at all. All the people were locals and obviously knew they were entering the fishing district. Max looked back out of her window and watched the colors of a steely blue ocean, browns and beiges of homes, the blacks of ocean rock, all pass in a blur before her eyes. The tangy scent of fish hit her nose and she crinkled it in response.

The bus slowed as flashing lights of a service vehicle were ahead. A fallen telephone pole rested against someone’s SUV, crushing the hood in and the bus made a wide go-around for the service vehicles on the street as the city workers attempted to repair the damage.

Her gut twisted and she gripped the edge of the bus seat.

It hit her like a freight train.

_“HELP ME! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE!”_

_Max was soaked in icy rain, her eyes watering from the ocean spray beating into her face and eyes. A telephone pole crashed in front of her and landed on a minivan. A scream. She looked to her right and watched as Alyssa fell through the wooden floor of a house. Evan stood off to the side, snapping photos of humongous, dead whale carcasses._

_“EVAN! You need to get out of here! It’s not safe!”_

Bone chilling shouts and cries for help bounced in her brain.

_Two little children’s drawings in crayon, happy and colorful getting soaked in the murderous shower of the storm as they flapped in the broken windshield of a wrecked truck. Kids were dying. Max was a murderous, terrible human being._

Another pothole shook the bus and Max brought her hands up and squeezed her two legs so tightly in her grip that she winced. This was a pain she needed and deserved. Breathing shortly, her vision began to twirl and she felt herself disassociating.

_Oh, please not now…_

Sweat began to bead on her temples and her throat was drier than a desert. She needed to get the fuck off the bus right now. Before thinking through a singular thing, Max stood up from her bus seat and lurched forward, stumbling down the rattling aisle way. The bus driver saw her through the rearview mirror, his thick eyebrows shooting upward in concern.

“Ma’am, I have to ask you to sit back down, _please_ ,” he stated loudly and clearly.

His voice though, through the reverberating of Max’s skull, sounded like it was under water.

“Pl-please, I _have_ to get off this bus now,” Max’s was panting and panicked.

_A fisherman sitting in a pile of water. He flopped around, just like the fish he was after for a living, sparks flying from the electricity surging through exposed building wiring. He lay still and dead once she shut it off, blood dripping from the corners of his nose._

“STOP THE BUS, PLEASE!” Max yelled, feeling her vision begin to whiten out.

The bus gave a jolt as the old brakes hissed and squealed in protest to being stopped. Max was thrown forward and she blindly caught herself on the back of a seat. She scrambled toward the top of the steps to the front door and fell the last two. She found herself midair, nearly blind in vision, reaching out for anything to grab to stop her ungraceful falling. Her knees cracked down onto the curb of the street and she yelped in agony. Her eyes were blinded by whiteness of pain and panic.

“Jesus, kid. Are you alright? Had a bad breakfast or something?” The bus driver sounded incredulous.

Max suddenly discovered that she couldn’t see a damned thing. All she could hear were the engine of the puttering bus, the rough voice of the driver, and a slow, increasing whirring of her ears ringing. She gasped as she pulled herself onto what she presumed was a sidewalk.

“Yeah, _bad_ breakfast. I’m-I’m fine. I just—,” Max sputtered without much luck in the direction she assumed the driver was in.

She clung and scratched her nails into the rough concrete surface of the sidewalk, attempting to grab any bit of reality or vision back. Her chest pounded and she felt like she was either going to release her bladder or throw up onto herself.

_I can’t fucking see!_

“ _MAX!?_ ”

_A tornado, miles into the sky swirled before her, carrying vehicles, houses, whales—anything it could find in its path. A body of a redheaded child laid pinned under the wheel of a car, the edge of a roof resting on top of the vehicle. The child’s left eye was popped out of its socket._

“MAX!”

_A soaking, bloody woman cowered over the body of her husband next to an overturned semi-truck. She wailed as she wiped his soaking hair from his sheet-white face. He was dead. A pole of a stop sign jutted from his ribcage._

The slamming of a car door was heard after the calling of her name. It was followed by the sound of running feet approaching her from the street. A car horn blared off and Max flinched. She couldn’t breathe correctly, she couldn’t see, and she was certain she was going to puke. Max pushed herself backwards with her heels, scrambling to get away. Her heart thudded against her ribcage and she couldn’t remember where she was. As she scampered backwards, she crashed into a hard surface behind her and recoiled.

“Does she need a doctor?!” a woman’s voice called from somewhere.

The running steps came up beside her and she felt the pressure of a hand on her shoulder. She let out a panicked bark and scrambled to get her back as close against the hard surface behind her as possible. The world was bright white and spinning beneath her.

“Max! Hey, _hey_ … _Shhh_ … it’s _me_ ,” the voice was soft and low.

“I can’t fucking see! I can’t see!” Was all she could muster out between panicked, heavy breaths.

“I think the kid is having an attack,” a rough, grumbled voice stated.

“She is. It’s okay, folks. I’ve got this from here. I’ll take her to the Urgent Care facility,” the voice was female, unwavering and commanding from beside her.

“Are you sure? Well, good luck,” the deep voice mumbled back before the rumbling of an engine got farther away.

The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently. A warm figure sat down next to her before tossing something extremely soft over her chest. That was when she smelled it—the expensive, magnificent smelling floral scent.

“Max… _Listen_. I need you to breathe in through your nose and then release from your mouth, okay? Let’s slow down your breathing.”

“I’m going to throw-up, I—I think,” she mumbled.

Max opened her mouth to speak again, to say anything to the girl beside her, but a soft palm touched her forehead, then glided down to her cheek. A soft ‘ _tsk_ ’ noise blew soft breath onto her ear and she then knew without a doubt exactly who it was.

“Vic— _Victoria_?” she stammered, nearly in shock at how fucking strange her luck seemed to be.

“Yeah, of course it’s me. Stop talking, close your eyes…” the hand went down to her knee, “Oh, _god_ , Max. Your knees are torn to shit. What did you do?” she breathed onto the skin of Max’s exposed neck.

Max’s stomach made another warning jump, begging her to get the upchucking over with already. Max swallowed deeply through panicked heaving. Her shoulders began to tremor. She felt like the time when she was eight years old and had just gotten off the spinning carnival ride for the fifth time after eating a whole cheese pretzel. That time when Max was eight, she _definitely_ threw-up on her dad.

“I’m—,” Max began through gritted teeth and a sweaty upper lip.

There was a quick swipe of Victoria’s soft hands against the side of her temples to hold her hair back and a gentle nudge to lean away occurred before Max’s stomach contents poured out and splattered against the sidewalk to her left.

Victoria swiftly tucked Max’s hair behind her small ears and began to rub gentle circles between Max’s shaking shoulder blades. Max breathed through her nose, eyes squeezed shut, and spit whatever remained in her mouth onto the sidewalk. At least her stomach felt a lot better.

“I’m so sorry. I’m fucking disgusting,” Max whined, feeling her eyes begin to water through closed eyelids.

This was by far, one of the most embarrassing moments she ever had in public. It was very inconvenient of Victoria to show up at the climax of her storm flashback. Even after her extremely embarrassing Friday night in Victoria’s room, this moment might top that.

“I can’t see…It’s all white.” Max whispered, continuing to shake against the cold of the sidewalk. The warmth of the fabric that had been thrown to her did seem to be helping a little.

The voice that answered back was so soft and tender, it sent a flood of warmth through her chest. “That’s okay. You’re _okay_. We’re sitting on the sidewalk against some guy’s fence. You’re in the fishing district and if you slow your breathing a little more, you can hear the ocean just over there.”

_Come on Max…Pull yourself out of it._

So that was what Max did. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She focused only on the distant sounds of the ocean lapping against black rock. Painfully and slowly, the feeling in her body began to come back. The ringing of her ears was now coming to a minimum and the world slowed its nauseating spin. She focused on the warm, solid girl beside her.

“Do you feel a little sick?” Victoria asked gently. The comforting circling between her shoulder blades ceased before a slender hand brushed a few stray bangs from Max’s shut eyes. It was a very kind gesture. Maybe a little more than kind…

Max nodded instead of answering.

“Pull your knees up and drop your head between them. It will help ground you. I do it all the time, unfortunately.”

When Max felt like she could talk without throwing up, head drooping pitifully between her pulsating knees, she mumbled, “Why are you helping _me_?”

Max heard a sharp inhale and sensed Victoria stiffen beside her. Her perfume helped calm her as it smelled loads better than dead fish.

The last Max and Victoria had seen one another, it hadn’t been a peaceful departure. Max got too close to Victoria’s face, too haughty in her inebriated state. Obviously, Victoria lost her shit when their faces brushed like that. It probably grossed her out. She probably thought Max tried to make a sexual advancement on her right after she kicked Zach out for violating her, tears streaming from her face. She probably thought Max wanted to take advantage of her drunken state; to kiss the straight girl.

_I don't know what either of us were doing._

Max had thought about Friday night for countless hours since and she couldn’t really piece it all together. She knew they smoked Chloe’s old joints, she knew she drank two mugs of wine cooler. Max knew neither of them were sober Friday night. The longer she laid in her bed, nursing a wine hangover on Saturday morning, and analyzed anything she could from that night, the more she grew confused.

She had liked being alone with Victoria—talking about photography, their playful back and forth, the comfortable way Victoria plopped herself down closely next to Max on the couch…

Yet, the visuals she had burned into her memory were: Victoria looking up at _her_ through long lashes, Victoria unbuttoning that silky, dangerous blouse, Victoria holding eye contact while licking her upper _lip_ before resting the joint between those two tinted lips…Victoria’s green eyes holding the reflection of a golden candlelit flame.

And then: Victoria’s watery red eyes and wounded expression, Victoria screaming at her to leave her room…

_What if Victoria thought I was trying to make moves on her when she didn’t want it?_

Honestly, even after the hours and hours of stewing on the whole thing while lying in her bed for an entire day, Max could, _even though it made her a nervous wreck to admit…_ she truthfully could say that there was a part of her that had thought about kissing Victoria Chase that night.

Maybe it never bubbled to the front of her brain because it was ridiculous to think that Victoria would ever want her to do something like that, but it was still a shadow of a thought. Even if she didn’t realize the moment it popped into her head, her gut and fluttering heart did most of the realizing for her.

If Max had told herself three months ago that she’d have a passing thought about kissing the Blackwell Beauty Queen, she would have either laughed, or paid someone to beat her up for saying ridiculous shit like that. Like she realized before, it was hard to find the line between friend or foe nowadays and Victoria seemed to be crossing over the friend line more frequently, if Max had to be honest.

_I could have sworn she was being a little flirty…I don’t know._

To make it even more complicated on Friday night, Max not only might have inadvertently crossed a line herself, but the clumsy oaf she was went and spilled wax all over the blonde’s dorm, busted open her own stupid healing cheek cut on her kneecap as she essentially, humiliated herself severely in front of the traumatized Victoria Chase.

She didn’t even realize how hard her body was still trembling. Obviously, from the autumn chill, the panic attack, and the recollection of Friday night were the biggest contenders. After a minute or two of quiet sitting and breathing on the freezing sidewalk, sitting side by side, she felt two warm arms wrap around her shoulders.

Victoria was surprisingly warm. Max never thought the socialite could radiate any type of warmth and now here she sat, between a pile of vomit and the warmest, most popular girl at Blackwell Academy with her arms wrapped around Max’s quaking shoulders.

“You don’t have to help me. Especially after wh—,”

Victoria’s stiff voice interrupted her, “—No, Max. I want to help you. We don’t have to talk about _that_ right now. Let’s just get you centered and up and out of here. It’s getting cold as shit.”

Max nodded and she suddenly felt completely exhausted as she sat, eyes squeezed shut. She hadn’t had a panic attack like that since Chloe’s coffin was buried into the ground. Max stayed there until she was the last, sole silhouette, dressed in all back, left staring at the tossed offerings of dirt upon a shiny wooden casket to scream obscenities into the sky.

_Make a joke about something, Max. This is a fucking mess._

“I was triggered by the stupidest thing,” Max gave her best joking voice, but her voice cracked. “I freaked out after I saw a fallen telephone pole.”

“Oh…well, that’s okay. Dumb shit sets me off my rocker too. I’m not going to judge.” Victoria breathed beside her.

Max forced her watery eyes open and to her relief, they were no longer whited out. Other than being a bit blurry from forcing them closed for so long, she could see colors and identify the sights around her. She looked down, a look of shock spread across her face as she noticed a black cashmere cardigan thrown around her chest and Victoria’s slender arm resting across her shoulders.

_She gave me her trillion-dollar cashmere sweater to warm up with?_

Max’s gut tightened up and she felt ridiculous and guilty. Victoria would probably never speak to her again after this. If she did, it’d probably be to poke fun at her for throwing up and shaking on a sidewalk.

“It’s cool if you want to annihilate me socially for this. I’m sure a lot of Blackwell will get a kick out of it,” Max gave a sad, half-hearted chuckle.

Victoria’s arms dropped away quickly and suddenly. The blonde turned slightly to stare at the side of Max’s hanging head. Max felt Victoria’s eyes burning into the side of her face. She inhaled deeply, preparing herself to speak before turning her head to look at the pained expression on Victoria’s face. Her green eyes were glossy and unhappy.

“Do you really think I’d _do_ something like that?” she asked in a low, cautious voice. Victoria’s mouth hung open in the slightest of ways, almost mid-gasp.

Max’s eyes widened, “Oh! Well…”

Victoria gave an icy scoff and the blonde scooted away from Max, giving herself distance, before parking her own back against the fence. She stared straight ahead into the endless spread of grey-blue ocean beyond the little brown houses. Her head leaned back against the fence with the softest of sighs.

It was fucking _stupid_.

Max breathlessly watched the golden sunlight dance highlights in the soft blonde of her hair, the shimmering of makeup on her cheekbones and at the tip of her nose accentuated her very feminine features; she truly was a beautiful girl.

_Victoria is mad, you threw up all over, and you’re gooey eyed over how she looks right now? You’re an idiot, Max._

“Remember when I said I’m no good to be around?” Victoria said it so quietly, the lapping of ocean waves on rocks almost carried her voice away.

Max furrowed her brow in confusion. Whenever she was with Victoria, nothing ever happened the way she expected.

“Vaguely,” Max replied.

Victoria gave her a bemused huff and then it was gone, replaced with a dazed look of pondering as she searched the view ahead.

“I was serious.”

“ _Oh_.”

“I’m…”

“Victoria, I’m the one who probably got vomit on your million-dollar sweater and I spilled wax all over your shit.” Max said it dryly, but with the slightest edge of humor.

Max didn’t want Victoria to beat herself up about the type of person she thought she was.

Victoria brought up a tired hand to pat her right eye. She swallowed hard, looking like she was gathering courage. She nervously moved her hand again to brush a few stray shiny bits of hair out of her face. She then looked down at her now folded hands that rested in her crossed legs and fiddled with her thumb.

All of that—a visual of her walls coming down.

“I’m _so_ fucking sorry, Max.”

_…What?_

Max was visibly taken off guard. Victoria’s voice was heavy and somber, her face fixated ahead, unwilling to let Max sneak a peek with whatever was swimming behind her serious eyes.

“You’re…sorry?”

“ _Yes_.”

“I just said I threw up on your cashmere.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the _cashmere_ , it can be dry cleaned, Max. For fuck’s sake.”

They both sat in a thick, heart racing silence.

“I can pay for it,” Max offered, not knowing what to say.

Victoria’s head snapped fiercely to glower at Max. Her face attempted to look severe, but her eyes were watery, wavering. The blonde opened her mouth to make a retort back, but decided against it last second. Her brows were knit together, as if a thousand replies played inside of her head.

“No, you’re not,” a pause before she inhaled deeply, “I want you to know I’m an asshole. I’m sorry for kicking you out like that. I shouldn’t have done or said most of the shit...that I unfortunately did on Friday night.”

_Oh…She’s sorry about Friday night._

As she studied the side of Victoria’s gloomy, far-away face ( _Max didn’t know why_ ), but her gut felt heavy. Her throat clenched a bit and she realized for the first time, how fucking awful her mouth tasted.

“What kind of shit?” Max asked curiously, her one eyebrow raised.

Max knew it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to ask, but she had to know what Victoria thought she did that she had to apologize for. All joking aside, she really did think she got sick on Victoria’s sweater on accident.

Victoria looked like she was going through different stages of a minor pain. Her face changed rapidly within a span of four seconds.

“Like…I,” Victoria growled dramatically and wiped her face with a palm. “Are you seriously going to make me like, _tell you_ exactly what ‘ _shit_ ’ I’m referring to?”

Max didn’t know how to reply to that question safely, so she offered the blonde her very best puppy eyed, lopsided grin. Victoria looked over at Max, her cheeks burned pink and bright. She batted her long, mascaraed eyelashes a few times, swallowed, and tensed her jaw.

“Jesus Lord,” Victoria breathed, her eyes glancing up into the sky. “You are…you really know how to hit those tender spots to get what you want, Caulfield.”

Max furrowed her brow and cocked her head slightly in confusion. She really didn’t know what Victoria was talking about, but she was too worried that if she spoke again, Victoria would never tell her what she meant.

Victoria brought her line of sight back down to her hands in her lap and she began tracing vague shapes into the fabric of her black denim. Max was surprised to see her in a pair of burgundy leather shoes and not heels; black jeans and not skirts. Victoria straightened her back against the fence and cleared her throat.

“Changing in front of you…and making you smoke weed…and _freaking_ you out.”

Max couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It probably wasn’t appropriate, but she had never seen Victoria so regally nervous. Max found it pleasantly nice of her to be apologetic. It certainly wasn’t anything she was expecting. Victoria shot a dark look at Max, probably thinking she was laughing only at her, when in reality, Max was finding the humor in the whole situation.

“I covered my eyes, remember? _Annnnd_ , I wanted to smoke weed. You also didn’t freak me out…okay, _well_ , maybe you freaked me out just a little. I’m a blundering idiot. I didn’t mean to get up in your face like that and then your face touched my face and I kind of—well, completely fell backwards and kneed my own self in the head.”

Max continued to give her a tired, encouraging raise of the lip. Victoria watched Max’s face closely, analyzing nearly every feature. Her eyes landed on Max’s swollen-again-for-the-second-time cheek and she fell into a sad, half smile. Her eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, no. Oh…That’s why you ran out _clutching_ your face. I didn’t even connect it until now.” A humored realization replaced the look of soft worry suddenly. “Impressive though, Caulfield. Only you could hit that exact same spot twice in a matter of days.”

Max gave an exaggerated shrug and leaned her head against the wooden, color-stripped fence. The floral scent of the cashmere sweater that laid over her chest hit her again and she wondered if it would be weird to wrap the sweater closer to her neck to breathe it in.

“I’m an ass and I haven’t iced it once,” Max grinned, staring straight ahead into the distant horizon that danced along between the little houses.

She heard a snort from beside her. “No shit, I figured you didn’t.”

The two sat there for another moment of silence. It was a bit more comfortable this time. Victoria breathed in deeply, tucked some yellow hair behind her ears and pulled herself upwards with an exaggerated groan. She walked over to stand in front of the slouched and sitting figure of Max. When Max looked upward to meet Victoria’s eyes, they were different.

Max gave her an award-winning smile because she wasn’t sure what else to do.

“So, are we like, _friends_ now?” Max asked in an airy bravado.

Victoria’s brows shot upward before the tiniest of slow grins creeped across her pink lips. She blinked slowly, inhaled dramatically and made a clicking noise with the tip of her tongue.

“I mean, you got a little puke on my sweater, so I’m not so sure about _friends_.”

Her face was solid and serious, but the lightest of gleams played in her green irises.

Max felt her ears grow hot with shame. She blinked, thinking of a response to this and scratched her face under the peering gaze of Victoria Chase, one hand on her hip, golden jewelry glinting in the sunlight of the afternoon.

"Max, I'm kidding. I'm  _kidding_ about the puke, not-not about the _fri_ -,"

Max winced at the pulling, sore pressure of her fingers and brought them to her eyes to analyze.

_Oh, shit, Max. You really messed yourself up on this one…_

"-Ouch, that looks a little sore." Victoria murmured in a tiny voice. 

Max’s fingers were raw and scratched up. Probably during her attack when she was desperately attempting to grip onto a solid surface. Little bits of gravel and dirt stuck into a few cuts on the pads of her fingers and her nails were scratched up.

“I’m a disaster zone,” Max whispered.

Victoria’s hand suddenly appeared in front of her vision and she looked up again. She gave Max a sturdy side grin and when Max sat there confused, she rolled her eyes into her head.

“Come on, let’s get your ass out of here. I’m freezing and you need to get cleaned up.”

Max was an idiot, she realized Victoria’s warm sweater was over her own shoulders and the blonde stood in the icy, ocean winds of the fishing district with nothing more than a thin burgundy button up blouse. A thin, golden locket hung beneath the collars and rested on her chest.

_Victoria gave me the sweater that she’s wearing? She’s probably fucking freezing._

The brunette sighed and placed her aching hand in Victoria’s palm. Surprisingly, the blonde pulled her up onto her feet with little effort. Max never thought about Victoria’s strength, but she must have been decently strong of a person to pull Max onto her feet without much effort.

Max clumsily wobbled a bit in her standing. Her knees gave a cracking, sore sound, which she winced in response to. She stumbled backwards onto her heels as her legs were entirely jello. To her surprise though, Victoria reacted quickly and pulled Max towards her in a steadying hold.

The tiniest of gasps slipped from Max’s lips and she peered up an inch or two to meet Victoria’s eyes. Victoria scanned Max’s flustered face and gave her a gentle frown in return. Her eyes weren’t icy or upset at all, if anything they were widened. It was like she was thinking heavily, here with Max, but also completely elsewhere.

Max felt tingling warmth spread to her icy limbs while in Victoria’s sturdy hold. Their chests were about an inch apart, Victoria’s hands rested firmly on both of Max’s shoulders, continuing their steadying of Max.

Even though Friday had been awful and she was planning on ways to avoid Victoria Chase for the rest of the school year because of the embarrassment, she realized that she didn’t want to really avoid her at all. She felt surprisingly thankful to the Vortex Club leader for her strange and sudden appearance to her after breaking down on an Arcadia Bay sidewalk.

Max didn’t know what she would have done had she been left alone to spin and puke on the side of the road. Maybe Victoria could empathize what was plaguing her waking and sleeping hours.

Before Max could really think on what she was doing, she closed the gap between them and pulled Victoria closer. She wrapped her arms around the small of her back and held her tightly in a hug. Tucking her chin into Victoria's shoulder, Max sighed.

The blonde went stiff as a board, her arms around Max's shoulders. Seemingly uncertain on how to react to this sudden form of affection, Victoria made a swallowing sound and let her weight relax into the hug.

Max could feel Victoria’s heart beating heavily through the hug. Max wasn’t sure if a hug was the right move, but at this second, she didn’t really care. She moved her head and placed the bottom of her chin on the blonde’s thin shoulder. She really did carry that particular Victoria scent with her of clean floral on everything. Max closed her eyes as she felt them begin to well up, overwhelmed.

“Thanks,” Max whispered gently. She tried her best not to scare the stiff form of Victoria away.

Victoria let out a sigh that seemed to loosen her up a bit more. The soft hair of Victoria brushed against her sore cheek.

“Even when you’re gross and pukey, you still somehow manage to be tooth-achingly sweet, Caulfield.” Her voice seemed like it was supposed to have a dash of insult in it, but it came out more fondly that Max anticipated.

Victoria pulled away from her and gave a rub along her shoulders. Her brows were furrowed and she wouldn’t make eye contact with Max. A slender, ringed hand brushed stray bits of hair from Max’s eyes quickly, no bits of lingering. She cleared her throat and visibly shivered in the sudden cool disconnect of their bodies.

Max pulled the soft, black cashmere sweater from her shoulders and the unzipped leather jacket left her front chilly and exposed. Max gave Victoria an awkward shrug.

“I’d give this back to you, but,” she started.

“No, thanks.” Victoria let out a bright scoff, teasing.

_She’s standing there shaking, Max. Give her something!_

Max looked down at the black leather jacket and realized it’d probably fit Victoria well. Besides, she had her grey hoodie on underneath, so she’d be fine in the chill. Max shrugged her shoulders out of the jacket that  _luckily,_ had not a single drop of vomit on it, and held it out to the tall, quivering blonde.

Victoria’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she tried to find a response. Victoria looked around the empty street and back to Max. Her eyes looked a little worried.

“That’s Chloe’s, I shouldn’t wear that,” Victoria whispered quietly to Max, looking a bit sheepish. The blonde shivered against her attempts at playing it casual.

Max would never have expected that type of reaction. If anything, she expected a disgusted denial to ever wearing something of Chloe Price's. 

_Then again, you don't know much about their history._

“Yeah, and now I’m loaning it to _you_ since I have the sweater.” She shook the cashmere in her hand gently as she held out the jacket to Victoria. "An even exchange, if you will."

If Chloe had been around to see Victoria Chase in her leather jacket, she’d probably have a field day with that one. Max silently apologized to Chloe in her head for the kind gesture Max was trying to give. The blonde stood there shaking and Max did just ruin her only source of warmth due to her quivering stomach.

_But Chloe was a tiny bit rough, but she was a good person, she'd probably loan her jacket out._

Victoria looked down at the jacket, analyzing it. Her eyes met with Max’s again and she exhaled through her nose. A soft pink brushed along her cheeks again as she rubbed her arms in the cold. The blonde slowly reached out and grabbed the soft leather in her hand. She rubbed a manicured thumb along the collar, very much like what she had done Friday night when Max was wearing it.

“I hope your girlfriend’s ghost doesn’t come after me for wearing this,” Victoria stated humorously in a fond manner.

Max couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Victoria hit that statement right on the head. That would be something Chloe would threaten. Still, a tiny blip of her heart responded to the comment about Chloe.

“Between you and me, I think she lifted this out of a booth at the Two Whales years ago. Although, Chloe would agree that it isn’t very gentlemanly to leave a pretty girl shaking in the cold.” Max whispered, leaning a bit closer to let Victoria in on the secret. She swallowed a bit harder than she intended to, but she hardly talked about Chloe with anyone.

Victoria let out a soft ‘ _ah_ ’ in acknowledgement before gracefully sliding her arms into the jacket. Victoria never let her eyes break away from Max’s. It was almost as if Victoria was waiting for Max to change her mind about offering her source of warmth away. Max quickly looked over Victoria and gave a sad, gentle lopsided grin as she analyzed her in the black leather jacket.

_Of course she can pull off the leather jacket better than I ever could. Other girls always seemed to be able to make everything a bit more wonderful looking, while I look like a frumpy mess._

“Looks good on you, Vic.”

“Oh? Well, it’s not really my style, but it’s definitely _yours_. I promise you’ll get this back as soon as we warm up in my car.”

“Everything is your style,” Max said in a deadpan voice. “Thanks, this jacket is really the only good thing I have going for me right now, _not including my endless supply of cereal,_ so eventually, I’d like it back.”

Victoria laughed and it was, to her shock, soft and feminine; uncontrolled and without worry of being judged. Max thought it was one of the prettiest she’d heard in a while.

_Too bad she doesn’t let herself laugh too much._

Victoria lowered her eyelids in playful suspicion. “I don’t think that’s the slightest bit true, but whatever you say, Max.”

Max shot a hand up to cover her own mouth, probably surprised by her own laugh that accompanied.

“Is it weird that I’m hungry?” Max asked through a playful raise of her eyebrow.

Victoria rolled her eyes in response to that and exhaled. The blonde pulled out a shiny set of car keys and motioned her head for Max to follow. Victoria led them ahead, walking down the street. Victoria’s hips swayed as she power walked ahead toward a polished red sports car. Max felt a good amount better, even though there was still the post-uneasiness of the panic attack still lingering. Not to mention the aching pulsating of her kneecaps and hands.

“Let me buy you a burger or something so you can eat,” she said over her shoulder coyly, walking ahead of Max.

Max trailed behind Victoria, not bothering to rush.

“Alright, you got yourself a date,” she motioned two finger guns, a minor wince on her face.

 _Unfortunately_ , Victoria had stumbled in her graceful walk and looked behind her and had seen Max give the weird hand gesture. Victoria closed her eyes and shook her head, her face scrunched up like she was holding back a reaction. She kept her head turned to keep an eye on Max from behind her.

“Charming…” she mocked Max’s previous deadpan voice with the curve of her upper lip.

“Yeah, that was bad, I know.” Max mumbled, trailing behind the sauntering blonde clad in unfamiliar leather.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOooOOoooOO??? Victoria Chase likes girls?
> 
> Shocker. Absolute legend. Iconic.
> 
> Anyway, (throat clearing) hope everyone enjoyed this one. Leave me something to read between all of my shifts. Like a fruit cake or toss something in the comment stocking below the comment mantle. ;)
> 
> *I've got a question for you all: Where are you folks from/reading from? (I'm writing from Ohio. It's cold.) I'm curious.
> 
> Hope everyone has a good holiday, if anyone celebrates anything! 
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	7. The Drive-In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria Chase makes it a point to help Max study. The two take a little journey for burgers and tasty Drive-In food. Victoria accidentally calls this a date. There are flying tater tots. (AKA, the usual stuff).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Yes, I know! Sorry this is almost two weeks out, but I sell things for a living and the holidays are big on trying to get us to sell things to people, so I've been working a lot. I hope everyone had a comfy last two weeks. Also, I loved the responses on where everyone is from!!! It's really fantastic how things like LiS can bring us together from all over the place. 
> 
> TW: (Actually... I don't think there are any for this chapter??? Other than the usual things.)
> 
> E N J O Y F R I E N D S

**CHAPTER 7:** **THE DRIVE-IN**

* * *

 

 

_**{VICTORIA}** _

 

**TUESDAY; Mid-day**

 

_Holy shit, it’s this year’s first snowfall…_

Victoria glanced up towards the window from her computer screen where she was going over the latest articles on the photography blogs she followed. A couple thick and fluffy white snowflakes had flown past her window, pulling her out of her editing zone. A forgotten project in her editing program was left there and minimized as she had run out of ideas on how to tweak it to make it perfect.

She was feeling disconnected from her usual work lately. Black and white architecture and serious, model posed faces didn’t hit her the same way emotionally as they used to. She still appreciated them and could analyze her own work as decent, but it felt flat. She huffed and hovered the mouse over the photo she had been working on.

She sighed and maximized her edit again. A serious looking, ancient brick building that could be found downtown, with curling vines growing upward, stood dominant over a crowd of mingling locals sat on the desktop screen. She messed with a few layers and details, playing with certain areas of the lighting. However, no matter what she did to it, nothing seemed to satisfy her.

Drawing a tired hand down over her eyes, she decided to find something different to work on. It was break and she was stuck inside in her dorm room, so she figured the best thing to do was get some extra photography work in while everyone else partied back home. The one thing Victoria knew stood important over all other matters in her life was her art.

_Then why don’t you feel like an artist anymore?_

Victoria opened up the folder from her camera’s memory card and began scrolling through the recent shots from her DSLR. She pinched the bridge of her brow in a tired manner as she had been at this since 9 a.m. this morning and nothing on her recent photos seemed to please her.

Victoria had felt ill with flu symptoms the past few days, her nose stuffy and sinuses pulsating. Staying inside at her desk was all the energy she could muster up. She figured she’d gather some inspiration from a few photography blogs, they had all been interesting articles on how to pose your models and how to make an impactful portrait, but nothing rang her interests.

As she scrolled, a dark shot caught her eye in the stream of daylight photos.

_Hmm…I don’t remember taking this._

She double clicked and pulled up a photo taken of herself.

_Oh._

It was dated from sometime Friday night.

Victoria brought her face closer to the screen to really analyze it up close. If Victoria had to be honest, it was probably one of the best caught off guard portraits that had ever been taken of her and of course the person who took it had to be Max Caulfield.

A familiar gut jump of jealousy popped up and she felt herself scowl as she stared at the portrait. It was a little dark, maybe too low of an ISO, but it was still a damned good shot, even if Max shot it in automatic mode. Victoria’s eyes were soft, staring at the photographer just off center, yet her eyes coyly burned the reflection of golden candlelight. Her hair glowed softly and she seemed the slightest bit tired, yet relaxed. This wasn’t the normal 100 attempted shots of herself that she was used to. This was a slice of a moment in the life of Victoria, showing the world how she was feeling in that exact second in time. This must be how Victoria looked through the artistic and vulnerable eyes of Max Caulfield. If any memories were clear and correct, Victoria was feeling a very particular way towards the photographer that night.

_If Max knows how to do anything, it’s taking the shot at the perfect timing, right before things become rehearsed._

A wave of unsuspecting guilt bubbled up into her gut, overshadowing the jealously that previously reigned. She knew that Max hadn’t touched a camera since Chloe’s death. The girl was found next to her dinosaur of an instant camera while cradling the body of her deceased friend in the bathroom that day. People whispered about it on campus, as everyone had gotten used to and familiar with the whirring sound of Max’s camera and her odd concentrated little face when a cute woodland creature popped up.

The art groups in Blackwell wondered if they’d ever see another instant shot of Sam’s squirrels ever again. Eventually the joke turned a little sad when Max did her best to bury any indication of her existence in nearly every aspect at Blackwell, even the photography scholarship she was there for.

Victoria quickly brightened up the shot, took a long look at it again, and flopped backwards into her desk chair. She remembered how angry and vindictive she had been when Max’s amateur, yet-sweet photos kept winning over the heart of Jefferson. Victoria realized now that the artistic thing Jefferson and Max had in common were the expert ways they could capture the honesty of their subjects, so it made sense that Jefferson found that honesty within Max’s photos and admired it.

Even though just thinking of their old photography teacher brought chills up and down her spine, Victoria still had a reluctant admiration for the artistic abilities of the creepy fucker. It’s what made her feel sick; that this person who was originally her hero and artistic inspiration, was now more so a plague to her mind.

_So even Max can take a good shot on digital too…_

It was dangerous. This girl really had the opportunity to do great things in the photography world if she only had the push to do it. Victoria couldn’t imagine what she would do if her grades had fallen dramatically and she was on the verge of losing her spot at Blackwell. Even though she’d rather eat a hundred hot peppers in a row before admitting it but, Victoria couldn’t stand the idea of her photography rival getting kicked out of the school.

_There would be no competition and no variety here anymore. Just a bunch of the same amateur shit._

Max was never afraid to be her own artist. Even after the countless sniggers thrown her way when snapping photos of rocks, deer, and the number of casual selfies, the girl continued taking them. Victoria admired that and wondered if one day she’d be able to take photos with such ease without planning or care of what others saw in them. That was hard for her to do, as she always had to have a plan when shooting. The only time Max was unwaveringly graceful and assured was when she was behind the viewfinder of a camera.

_And she hasn’t touched one since…_

She looked back to her desktop screen at the singular portrait Max had taken of her that Friday night and she felt uneasy.

_Well, I guess that’s not true anymore. She hasn’t taken anything but this portrait since, I’m certain._

Before she had fully thought through what she was doing, she had her phone in her hand, speedily typing up a text message.

 **VICTORIA:** what are you doing right now, Caulfield?

Victoria stared anxiously down at her phone and waited to see if any typing bubble would indicate to her that Max had received and read the message.

They had confided in one another that they were both stuck here during break for the most part after Victoria found Max on the side of the road looking scared and wild. Max later clued Victoria in on the news about her being stuck at Blackwell during break, family unable to afford a plane ticket. That was all she really said to Victoria. Normally, having money was never anything she felt guilty about it, but to see Max’s red-welling up eyes talking about her parents’ situation with money, it really struck a hidden nerve she didn’t know she had about herself.

The two had separated and gone to do their own things Sunday evening and hadn’t spoken since, regardless of being the only two on the floor of the dorm. Victoria didn’t want to bug the brunette too much, even though there had been moments where she hovered in front of Max’s door, resisting the urge to check up on her. To her complete surprise and satisfaction, bubbles appeared on her phone screen right before Max’s response back.

 **MAX:** Uhhhh, watching some Gordon Ramsay. He’s yelling at these restaurant owners about keeping raw chicken next to cooked steak. It’s pretty wild.

Victoria found herself smiling stupidly down at her own phone. Realizing she was grinning, she mentally steeled herself. She couldn’t be getting all happy and giddy simply because Max texted her back in a friendly manner.

If Victoria was honest, after Friday night, she wasn’t sure if Max would ever want to be around her again. Victoria decided that the right thing to do was to keep any inappropriate feelings she had about Max to herself. It was easier that way. She couldn’t string Max along as it wasn’t right. Victoria wasn’t sure what her feelings even were and as she had seen earlier Sunday afternoon, Max was having a harder time than Victoria had ever imagined previously. So she decided to herself on the way to a fast food burger joint picked by Max that Sunday night, that any kind of flirtatious, hope-giving statements to Max would not be made. _If_ she could prevent it.

Sometimes, more than Victoria would like to admit, Max had weaseled her way through Victoria’s façade and pulled something honest and raw out of her. She wasn’t sure if that was the best for either of them. Victoria didn’t want to sweep Max up into any confusing signals Victoria might be sending off her way. Victoria was at Blackwell to take good photos. That was it.

A female brunette with freckles and ocean eyes was not on her to-do list. She couldn’t pull Max into anything that could confuse her, or worse, set her off. The girl had a terrible last two months. Victoria didn’t want to add to that pain and confusion.

Besides, Max had deeply scared her that Sunday on the sidewalk.

It scared her how much she cared, to the point where she had pulled over her car in a hazardous manner when seeing the panicked and pale form of Max scurry away from a stopped Arcadia Bay bus. It worried her that she threw Max her own expensive cashmere sweater, regardless of being sick with the flu herself, without a second thought. It terrified her how much she wanted to make sure Max was alright afterwards, even to the point of buying the girl a meal and instructing her on how to best clean her new wounds that she had given herself during the public panic attack. Victoria Chase wasn’t supposed to care about people like Max. It gave her a weight on her shoulders that she wasn’t familiar with.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she peered down, pulling herself out of her train of thought.

 **MAX:** Apparently they don’t season their food well at this restaurant. Gordon said their clam chowder tastes like glue.

She suppressed a tiny grin and replied back via text.

 **VICTORIA:** I think you should be studying. I think Gordon would agree with me.

 **MAX:** UGH. You’re such a mom.

Victoria frowned and crinkled her nose in disgust.

 **VICTORIA:** please, don’t ever call me a mom again. Gross.

 **MAX:** HAHA. Noted. Uh, so…what was the film called that we watched last class? I think Warren gave me hella notes from class so I can study.

A wash of disapproval spread over her. She didn’t trust Warren to really know a damned thing about good film. The kid watched serial killer movies all the time, or at least talked about them in class.

 **VICTORIA:** do you have pants on?

 **MAX:** uh, no.

Victoria rolled her eyes and tapped through another reply.

 **VICTORIA:** get dressed, hippie.

Victoria stood up and pulled on an oversized Blackwell Academy crew neck sweater over a pair of leggings and smoothed down her hair. She slid on her slippers and opened her door, making her way across the hall. She inhaled, gathering courage and face before knocking three times. She looked over and saw Max’s whiteboard had a funny looking stick figure with a big frown drawn in its round head.

The door swung open and a baggy Seattle, Washington hoodie greeted her line of sight. Max was wearing a pair of grey sweats to match the navy-blue hoodie. The sweater looked lived in and faded, with a few holes along the hood line. The bruise along her cheek and eye looked less angry today and Victoria felt a bit of relief about that, as she considered herself partly responsible for it.

Max must have realized that Victoria was staring at her fading bruise and she made an awkward gesture towards her own face. Her eyes avoided Victoria’s.

“Yeah, I managed to ice it so hopefully it looks less terrible,” Max offered the wandering, yet grimaced face of Victoria.

Victoria raised a singular brow. “At least you managed to do that, I guess. Better late than never.”

Max matched Victoria’s raised brow and added a probing grin. “Better late than never.”

Victoria realized now was probably the time to explain to Max why she was standing outside her door and she scrambled her head to come up with whatever she was thinking earlier.

“Uh, so I think I can help you with film. I know you said Warren left you notes, but if I’m being honest, I’m not sure he could handle the complexity of the film.”

Max’s brow furrowed suddenly. “It’s some old French film, how complex could it be?”

Victoria let out an eye roll before giving an answer. Leave it to Max to be completely unaware of her own odd ironies.

“Max. You live in old film. That’s like arguing your photos don’t have any underlining meaning simply because they’re taken on an old, massive instant. Besides _The Artist_ is from 2011, it just looks super old on purpose.”

Max widened her eyes, considering Victoria’s take on the matter. She bit her corner lip before thinking over something again.

“Oh, dog. I just figured that because it was black and white it was from a hundred years ago.”

Victoria snorted gently and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong with older film?”

Max let an unabashed grin spread across her face in hearing Victoria say that. Once Victoria caught what she had said, she frowned and jutted out her lower chin for measure. Max Caulfield was still managing to catch every little thing she said.

“Why nothing is wrong with older film, I should know.” Max huffed proudly.

Victoria gave her best attempt at a bored wave of the hand and peered around the empty hallway. Max fiddled with the sleeve end of the hoodie and rocked back on her heels. All Victoria was trying to do was help the geek and she was giving her playful pushbacks.

“So do you want help or not? I’m not just offering up my services to anyone for free.” Victoria let a hand drop to her hip. She watched Max closely as the brunette’s inner cogs started grinding away.

“What do you want?” Max’s face suddenly flushed pink before she stammered, “I mean if you help me, what do I have to do in return?”

_Uh, I don’t know…Just pass your fucking classes so you don’t leave me here with these brain-washed amateurs?_

Victoria gave Max a pointed grin, her eyes devilishly toying with an idea that just popped into her head. Maybe Max gave her an opening to gently push her in the right direction. Besides, Victoria never expected to request Max do anything back in return for her help in film class, but now that the idea was up and on out on the table, she had to offer an incentive. She didn’t want Max to reject her help, but with the expanding knowledge of how Max Caulfield worked, she knew just the right thing to request to get the brunette to do what she wanted.

_You really want to ask Max to do that, Victoria?_

“I want you to help me with shooting nature shots sometime. Maybe when school is back. Mine suck. Yours would always feel lively, mine feels too sad or disinterested.”

If she was being honest, this really was an area of her portfolio and skill set that she needed to refine. Victoria had never really been interested in shooting nature or wildlife before, but she knew one day it would come up and if anyone could give her help and tips on how to make those shots come to life, it was Caulfield.

Max’s mouth went slack in surprise. Her eyes met Victoria’s as if they were searching for the punchline to a joke. When Victoria continued to stand her ground, and gave Max her serious face, she furrowed her dark brows almost suspiciously.

“You’re asking…for help…from _me_?” Max blinked twice, still looking suspiciously up at Victoria.

Victoria sighed loudly. She just wished Max wouldn’t question every little thing. It was what Max did best, question every little motive—pry and analyze.

“I guess so.”

Max made a heavy thinking face, her mouth screwed over to the right in consideration. Her eyes suddenly grew solemn as if she remembered something and she avoided Victoria’s waiting gaze.

“I haven’t touched a camera in months. I’m not even sure how much help I could be to you,” she shrugged honestly. Her eyes didn’t want to go back to Victoria just yet.

Victoria made a soft _‘hmm’_ noise before pointing a finger at Max. She couldn’t believe the amount of self-doubt that shrouded Max so quickly.

“First off, that’s not true, and second—you don’t just lose your eye for that type of subject. That vision and how you see the natural world is innate. It doesn’t just go away.” Victoria softened her voice, “Throw me a bone here, Max, I’m practically begging at your door.”

Max finally met her eyes then, a slowly spreading smile brightened her once solemn face. Maybe Victoria could find the right thing to say to Max when she had to.

“I guess you are here,” she motioned to the door frame, “practically begging at my door.”

Victoria blinked slowly before giving one curt nod in response. She almost had her hooked to the proverbial line. Just another incentive to sprinkle on there should seal the deal.

Max dipped her head down and stared at her sock clad feet. “I don’t know, Victoria. I’m not sure I am any good at taking photos anymore.”

Victoria huffed and wanted to do nothing more than to shake Caulfield by her shoulders so she’d wake up from her self-pity party when it came to photography. As if a light bulb flickered on in her head, she reached down and grabbed Max gently by the wrists, pulling her out into the hallway and towards her own room.

_If Max isn’t going to listen to me, then I’ll show her._

“Why are you dragging me into your room?” Max asked, her voice a little nervous, cheeks bright pink.

“I need to show you something,” Victoria answered lowly, her eyes locking with Max’s as she walked backwards, dragging Max along. This answer didn’t seem to soothe Max at all for some reason.

Victoria opened her bedroom door and pulled Max inside. She sauntered over to her desktop screen, shook the mouse awake and the portrait Max had taken of Victoria on Friday night popped up onto the screen looking crisp, artistic, and alluring.

Victoria set a hand to her hip and turned to catch the journey of Max’s face as she stared deeply at the portrait on the screen. Her face went from a pink, to a draining white, to her cheeks lighting up a bright red color. She stammered as she looked at the photo.

“Oh, wow. You look really beautiful in that,” Max breathed. “I probably shouldn’t have taken your camera like that, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know, I was really feeling the atmosphere.”

This comment took Victoria off guard and she caught herself before a stupid, shy smile spread along her face. Instead of smiling, Victoria looked away and covered her face dramatically.

“ _You_ took this, Caulfield. My god.” Victoria dropped her hand from her face, feeling like she had herself together again and locked eyes with Max. “You may not even know it, but you’ve done the hardest part already. You’ve already taken that first shot to get yourself back in it, and it’s fucking _good_. All you _gotta_ do is take the second, third, fourth shot and so on.”

“Hmm…I guess it was a little easier for me to take a photo on a digital camera than my instant camera.” Max genuinely acknowledged. She gave Victoria a soft shrug.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you use one of my digitals and we’ll go out into the snow and snap some photos of bunnies or something.” Victoria noticed the tension of Max’s shoulders when she had said the word ‘snap’ and continued on before she lost her again. “If you—if you _can’t_ take any photos, fine, but at least you’ll have a shiny, expensive Greenlit to carry around in case inspiration hits.”

Max seemed to be heavily considering Victoria’s offer. Her face went through nearly three changes of mood before settling on a hesitant curiosity. Max peered up at her through thick, short lashes in an almost sheepish, suspecting manner.

“You’d let me use your new $ _6,000_ camera?” Max nearly whispered the question as if it was too good to be true.

Victoria couldn’t help but give Max an agreeable half-grin. The hesitation and nervousness to trust herself handling one of Victoria’s many and expensive photo toys was kind of sweet. She probably would have only trusted Nathan with such equipment up until about a few days ago.

“As long as you don’t do something stupid like drop it into a pile of snow, I don’t mind at all.” Victoria continued giving Max the agreeable half-grin in case she sounded too harsh.

“Oh, well…As long as there’s no pressure. Sure, I actually would like to help you with nature photos.”

Victoria felt a tickle deep inside of her nose and brought up her inner elbow to catch a high-pitched sneeze. Her sinuses throbbed for a moment and she rubbed the edges of her nose to suppress anymore sniffles or sneezes. Max looked at her in concern for a moment.

Waving a slender hand to let Max know she was fine, she continued. “And I’ll help you with film class. Well, we’re like two of the ten students that stayed behind for break so I think you and I have some time to work together.” Victoria caught Max’s eyes widen. She sputtered, “I mean, obviously, only if you wanted to. Somebody has got to help you with these grades.”

To her relief, Max’s mouth pulled into her signature lop-sided grin.

* * *

 

 

_**{MAX}** _

 

**TUESDAY; Same day; Evening**

 

Victoria and Max had watched through _The Artist_ on Victoria’s prime plasma screen in her dorm room. They’d pause the movie at certain points to discuss camera angles, the power of shadow play in a black and white film, and the time-period the film was made to highlight. Victoria patiently helped Max type up a study guide and advised her of a few things that she knew Mr. Webb liked asking on tests. After about four hours and two tired, melted brains later, Max’s stomach let out a loud rumble and she blushed under Victoria’s gaze.

“Jesus, Max. Sounds like you’ve got a monster in there.”

Max rolled her eyes in response to Victoria, “Well, I haven’t eaten anything today. I was going to nosh on some cereal bars, but you barged into my room and dragged me in here to watch _The Artist_.”

Victoria scoffed at Max sitting next to her on the couch. “What’s with you and cereal? Are you guys—in love?”

Max’s face washed with a look of surprise at Victoria’s playful banter, but she played along, “Oh, yeah. My wife Cereal and I have been married for years. Great gal. Always makes sure I have breakfast in the mornings and sometimes dinner.”

Victoria bit her bottom lip to suppress a laugh and carefully watched Max’s face. Her eyes lowered and a playful smirk danced along her face. Max’s heart sped up.

“Maxine? You eat your wife?” Victoria waited with glee for the joke to hit Max. Luckily, she wasn’t left disappointed because Max felt her cheeks burn red hot and she wanted nothing more than to hide her reddening face, but she needed to stick it out.

 _What would Chloe say back?_ She thought quickly.

_Oh, maybe: “wouldn’t you like to know?” Oh, god, Max. NO. You can’t say that. That is the literal perfect first Chloe like comeback you could come up with. Okay, how about…_

“She keeps me satisfied,” she said back with the slightest hint of suave in her voice, watching Victoria’s face closely. It must have been the perfect amount of suggestiveness because Victoria bristled slightly and cleared her throat before turning away to stare at the paused film scene on the television. Her blush seemed to brighten in color.

“Okay, whatever, oddball. Let’s go get some dinner. We should change and look presentable and maybe we can go inside somewhere because I am so sick and tired of being at Blackwell locked up. I have a car, let’s use it.” Victoria decided and stood up from the couch and straightened her legs.

Max felt her heartbeat pick up at the idea of having to leave her room and make herself look presentable to go out in public with Victoria Chase and interact with strangers today. She looked down at her own frumpy outfit and an idea popped up into her head. She wanted to still hang around with Victoria and a part of Max felt warmly that Victoria decided they were both going to go grab something to eat together. Maybe Victoria did want to be friends even after the whole awkward rubbing of their faces and Max puking on Victoria’s cashmere fiascos.

“Have you ever been to the Drive-In down about 15 minutes by the movie theatre in town?” Victoria suddenly stopped her gathering and straightening of her study materials and looked at Max quizzically, yet a shadow of a frown danced on her face.

“Why would you want to go there?” she asked a bit harshly.

Max rubbed the back of her neck out of embarrassment but she figured the best thing was to tell the truth. Victoria didn’t have a bad idea, it was just that Max couldn’t handle being out and vulnerable inside of a food joint. Plus, the idea of eating a meal together with Victoria as opposed to going through a drive thru together like they did Sunday made her stomach flip. Her stomach gurgled again and she decided maybe meeting somewhere between those two would be the best option.

“I don’t think I’m up for kind of interacting with other people too much today. How about something more chill and casual?”

Victoria eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out what she was playing at, or at least that’s how Victoria looked to Max.

“Let’s go and pick up some burgers, tater tots, and milkshakes at the Drive-In, just wearing our lazy clothes, feeling cozy.”

_Does Victoria do cozy?_

Not much about Victoria as a person made it seem so, but Max had begun to slowly assume that there was a lot of fun, low-stress things Victoria had probably never done. At least from what she could figure.

Max thought back to her father, Ryan Caulfield, and how he would round up Max and her mother and take them for burgers in the middle of the Oregon winter down at the Drive-In. They had the best burgers in town, even _Two Whales_ couldn’t compete with their signature burger. There wasn’t much else to do during the cold months and Max had always cherished the occasional visits to the Drive-In with her family.

_Those memories are warm._

“Does that Drive-In even have a health inspector?” Victoria asked.

Max shrugged, humored. “I’ve been there plenty of times and never had anything but good food and a nice time.”

Max looked around Victoria’s room for a moment, looking for inspiration. A big, fluffy purple blanket folded neatly over the back of the white couch caught her eye. She brushed past Victoria and lifted it into her arms. She wasn’t that surprised that it smelled fantastic. Max wondered if Victoria sprayed her expensive scent over all her things.

“Are you stealing my shit, now, Max?” she hummed with a hint of sarcasm.

Max gave Victoria a big smile, her arms full of floral smelling blanket. “Alright, Chase. Put on your winter jacket. We’re going to get some grub.”

\--

Max had settled on getting two single cheeseburgers with extra pickle, a side of tots, and a chocolate milkshake. She didn’t care that it was freezing outside. The milkshakes were always too good to pass up. Plus, she was starving.

Victoria had settled on a cheeseburger after the incessant push from Max, a side of tots, and a bottle of water.

_Very Victoria like._

Max had pulled out her over-used and broken into wallet to pull out a twenty to give to the carhop, but before Max could hand it over through Victoria’s open window, the blonde slipped a metal looking credit card into his outstretched hand.

Max stammered and gave Victoria a frown. “I was going to pay for it. You’ve never been here before, so I figured I’d be nice—,”

“Let _me_ be nice for a change, alright? It’s not a big deal Max. I got it.” Victoria was wearing her designer sunglasses still even though there wasn’t a drop of sunlight breaking through the clouds of occasional snow.

_Very Victoria Chase like to wear sunglasses in winter._

Max managed to at least convince Victoria to leave the campus with their comfy clothes on, which had been a bit of a struggle to convince the Blackwell Beauty that Max and she didn’t need to wear _real_ clothes to sit in a car and eat burgers.

Max unbuckled her seat belt and reached into the tiny back seat of Victoria’s fancy sport’s car. She had no idea exactly what kind of car or make it was, but the leather interior and convertible top told her all she needed to know about the assumed price tag of the thing. The first-time Victoria had motioned for Max to get in after her spell on the sidewalk that Sunday, Max stood in the cold wind for about thirty seconds before deciding to clamber her way into the low riding vehicle. She had never been in something so expensive before.

“What are you doing, Caulfield?” Victoria asked, watching the brunette in the rearview mirror over the tops of her sunglasses. “You never really said why you stole my blanket off my couch.”

Max pulled the blanket off the back seat and twisted back around to face Victoria, holding the blanket on her lap and grinning.

“Gotta get comfy for a meal like this,” she responded, her eyes twinkling at the blonde.

Victoria’s brows lifted above the rim of her glasses, but Max couldn’t exactly see her eyes. Max could tell however, that Victoria was attempting to piece together the mysterious puzzle she was, all behind designer shades.

Max wanted to throw her a bone.

“You see, my family and I used to come up here as a treat sometimes. My favorite time to go was during the winter—where everything is chilly and all you want is some hot food in your stomach. Anyway, my dad would get the idea, ‘Hey, Maxie, how about we go up to the Drive-In and split a chocolate shake?’ My mom would tug one of her old, big sweaters on me and grab a few blankets and my dad would drive us up here in the old, shitty van. Sometimes, we’d listen to Christmas music. Sometimes we’d listen to soundtracks to musicals…I guess those were some of my favorite memories. We’d all get three straws and split the giant shake.”

Max ended on a note of gentle sadness. The kind of sadness that came with being away from her parents on holiday. Her grandmother’s kind, soft face flashed into her memory and she gripped the blanket for comfort.

Victoria noticed the demeanor change in Max and she sighed. Pulling off her sunglasses and folding them into a secret drop down on the roof of the car, she placed them in there and snapped it shut. Her hand hovered there, lost in thought.

“I’m—I’m sorry that you’re not home with them. I’m sure it’s really hard. I wish things could be different for you.” Victoria breathed, her eyes drifting along the view outside of her driver’s window. Her jaw was clenched and tight and Max noticed her eyes blinked a bit more aggressively than normal.

The way Victoria had said _‘I wish things were different for you’_ caused her heart to race. Max could almost have sworn that the blonde was talking about more than just being stuck at Blackwell during holiday. She liked to think she was, the depth and remorse sounded too prominent for it to be about just missing Thanksgiving.

“Thanks…that’s actually really sweet of you to say, Victoria.”

Victoria bristled and whipped her head around to face Max. She opened her mouth to retort back something harsh, but her eyes softened at the last possible second.

“What else is going on?” Her eyes were lowered, her posture surprisingly open. “I know families suck, but I’m getting the feeling that there’s something else there.”

_Is this who Victoria really is behind closed doors?_

Max found herself thinking that a lot as of recently. There was something about this softer, confident, nurturing Victoria that Max couldn’t shake loose from her daily stream of thoughts.

“I’m just…” Max inhaled deeply and weighted telling Victoria about her grandmother’s predicament back in Chicago. She avoided talking about it on Sunday as her mind was a gooey mess of bad flashbacks, and she didn’t need to be triggered by the fact that her grandmother was out there dying halfway across the country.

Victoria’s eyes bore deeply into Max’s, still fully present, still open and waiting.

“My grandma is in Chicago. She’s—she’s not doing well at all and they think that she’s going to pass this week. My parents are there now with her. When she goes—,” Max gave a small shrug to attempt to hide back tears, “—they’ll ship her body out here to Arcadia Bay.”

Victoria’s eyes fell and she stared intently at Max’s wringing hands.

“Oh, I had no idea that’s why you couldn’t go back home.”

Max picked at her thumbnail, feeling the usual nerves buzz through her body anytime she had to talk about someone passing. She felt the rise of both Victoria and Max’s nervous energies in the small space of the car.

“You’ll be okay,” Victoria finally whispered.

Max looked up from her hands and caught Victoria’s eyes again. They gave each other sad smiles.

Victoria’s hand reached forward and clasped where Max was picking anxiously. Her hands were a bit chilly, but the weight felt right. Max furrowed her brow and Victoria gave Max a bit more of an open, soft smile to reassure her. Max felt her hand relax and open to make way for the softest pair of hands. This was the second time Victoria’s hand could be seen in Max’s this week.

“You’re like, surprisingly tough, Caulfield. If anyone can get through this super shitty situation, it’s probably you.” Victoria gave Max’s hand a squeeze.

A knock at the window made them both jump. The barhop waved at them through the driver’s side window. He held a large bag of food and Victoria’s credit card. Max shifted the way she sat and slid her hands beneath the warm blanket, still feeling a tingle where Victoria’s hands were a moment ago. Her face felt a little warm and she cursed her genetics of always exposing her through blushes.

Max gave a weak smile to the carhop boy as Victoria handed him a twenty-dollar tip from her purse. He looked down at the twenty in his hand slightly confused.

“You don’t have to look at the bill like that, it’s a tip. Thanks.” Victoria gave him a brief, elegant wave before rolling the window up on the stunned carhop.

“That’s probably the biggest tip he’s seen in like weeks.”

Victoria reached forward and cranked the heat up in the vehicle as it was noticeably getting chillier. Her manicured nails grabbed onto a sleek looking iPod as she fiddled with the Bluetooth. She raised a blonde brow and gave Max a playful look.

Max, feeling self-conscious as Victoria’s eyes lowered on her, she shifted more of her torso under the blanket. Her stomach gave another rumble and she could smell the beautiful, fried goodness that waited for her in the bag. She didn’t want to dig in right away without Victoria’s go ahead. Max didn’t even know if she trusted herself to eat in the fancy car.

“How do you feel about _Mumford and Sons_? They’re hipster enough for you, right?” Victoria gave her another, short wicked grin.

Max cracked a curious smile back. “Why do you ask that?”

Victoria’s eyes flickered as she tapped the screen to play. Music flowed through the top-notch speakers and Max felt the notes vibrate through her very body.

“Oh, wow.” She nodded in approval. “These speakers are amazing.”

Victoria grabbed the bag from the center console where she had set it down and began digging through its tasty contents. She handed Max her share of the spoils.

“We need music to set the mood for our little date—,”

Victoria’s eyes widened and she shook her head immediately after the words slipped out. Max felt her cheeks grow warm again and she attempted to give Victoria a joking chuckle to make the nervous Blackwell heiress feel better about the awkward slip-up.

“It’s okay. I know what you mean, Victoria. Don’t have to freeze up like a _weirdo_!” Max teased her heavily in a highly-placed Victoria voice. She picked a steaming tater tot from the bag and popped it into her mouth, chewing comically.

“You are mocking me, Max Caulfield.” Victoria said, her jaw slack open in miniscule shock. There was maybe even a hint of a smirk in her voice, like she was glad that Max was giving it back to her.

Max attempted to suppress her chuckling, but to no avail. Victoria scoffed and reached into the paper bag to pull out a tater tot. The tips of her ears had turned a bright pink.

“I do _not_ sound like that!” She furrowed her brows in annoyance.

Max covered her laughing mouth as she chewed the salty potato bits. Victoria’s face was absolutely too fucking priceless at the moment. She was shocked, but seemed to be playing back. Max knew the true annoyed face of Victoria. The girl that sat next to her in a leather foreign car seat was far from that. Plus, Victoria looked a lot less intimidating, holding a singular tater tot between her thumb and pointer finger, feigning a look of fake shock.

“Yeah, you do…sometimes.”

“Max! Stop laughing,” Victoria attempted to stammer out, but Max’s laugh had grown somewhat infectious in the steamy heat of the car. Victoria’s upper lip began to quiver before pulling into a bemused, poorly suppressed grin.

Max did not expect what happened next.

The singular rogue tater tot went zooming through the air and hit her in the shoulder, bouncing down into the net of soft blanket on Max’s lap.

“Did you just _throw_ your tater tot at me, Chase?” Max picked it up and popped it into her mouth. If Victoria was going to gift her flying tater tots, she was going to take them and eat them.

Victoria gave Max a dangerous smirk through long lashes before looking away to pull her own food out.

Luckily, a food fight did not break out, but the two managed to make short conversation and enjoy their food while listening to Mumford and Sons. The album was beautiful by itself, but watching tiny flakes of snow flutter around the parking lot and onto the nearby tree branches gave the album some depth. The warmth of the car heater and their breathing caused the windows to collect fog in its corners.

_If we became friends, what other albums could we listen to in this car?_

“That was actually good. I’m surprised,” Victoria hummed, satisfied with her meal.

She peeked at Max from the corner of her eyes, her face fixed straight ahead.

“I do have some class, you know.”

“I’m not sure if I’d call greasy Drive-In burgers _class_ , but you certainly have _taste_ , I do have to admit.” Victoria nodded slowly, digesting her own revelation.

Max lifted her eyebrow in surprise. That certainly wasn’t something she’d expect to hear out of the mouth of Victoria Chase.

“What would the Vortex Club think if they knew that I had _taste_?”

Suddenly, the air got icier and Victoria visibly tensed up.

_Not the right thing to say there, Maxie._

Victoria looked like she was holding her breath with the way her shoulders stayed hovering near her neck. Max swallowed thickly, feeling the beating waves from the pixie haired blonde.

“I think the Vortex Club can fuck off with whatever they think.” Victoria finally spat, her eyes drilling into the Drive-In building ahead.

Max furrowed her brows. Victoria looked so uncomfortable so quickly. Max looked down at the soft purple blanket pooled in her lap and she outstretched the fabric to have half of it fall into Victoria’s lap.

Victoria whipped her head around and glared at Max. She grabbed the blanket with both hands and gripped it tightly. Her eyes were calculating, thinking, piecing something together behind the steeled-up wall of green eyes that appeared almost brown in the dim, wintery light.

_I don’t want her to shut down on me._

“That was stupid—,”

“ _Will_ you go out—,”

_Hold on, what?_

“What?”

“What…”

Victoria shifted beneath her half of the blanket. She looked increasingly uncomfortable, a battle raging within her. Her eyebrows were nearly knit together in extreme focus, like she was on the spot desperately waiting for the right words to hit her. Her eyes were zoned out on Max’s chocolate milkshake in the passenger side cup holder between them. Her shoulders lowered after she took in a deep inhale.

“Vic—Victoria, were you trying to say something?” Max asked in a small voice. She was worried that if she spoke too loudly and frightened the cornered Victoria, that she would completely shut down and out.

_She was definitely trying to say something._

Victoria looked up at Max, tearing her eyes away from the milkshake. An epiphany seemed to hit her then and it was as if Victoria was really seeing Max, not through her with a dazed glare. Reaching forward, she plucked the milkshake from the cup holder and brought it up to her mouth. She inhaled again, as if she was willing herself to put the straw to her lips. Taking a quick draw from Max’s milkshake, her face lightened.

“Oh,” she mumbled. She looked at the Styrofoam cup in her hand with awe, “this shit is actually good.”

Max gave her an incredulous look.

_Sometimes she’s hard to follow._

“I mean, yeah, it’s a milkshake. It’s kind of hard to fuck that up.” Max offered, not knowing what else to say.

Victoria fiddled with the straw and moved it in circles, mixing the chocolatey concoction absentmindedly. Max tried not to think too long on the fact that Victoria had just used her straw and drank from her milkshake.

“I want you to go out with me,” she stated in a very strange, deadpan sounding voice. Her face looked like she was thinking too hard about everything she was saying. Her hand froze, straw still.

Max somehow managed to choke on her own oxygen and hunched forward. She felt her heart race about a hundred times a second.

Victoria scoffed and threw her hands up in the air. Even hunched over coughing through watery eyes, Max could see a tint of red paint the blonde’s face.

“For Black Friday shopping, Max. _For Black Friday shopping_.”

“You didn’t think to—,”

“—and yeah, I probably could have worded that a lot better,” Victoria begrudgingly admitted through an embarrassed grimace. “You—sometimes you… whatever, I think it would be fun and I always go, but now that I can’t do it in Seattle, maybe we could go and kill some hours, drop a few grand—,”

Max coughed again and felt her face lose its blood. “I can’t drop—no, well… anyway, I might not even be here Friday depending on how my grandma is doing. Besides, I have about a hundred bucks to my name for any Christmas shopping.”

Victoria’s face seemed to lose its color too then. She swallowed slowly, as the air in the car became thick and awkward. She turned back to face forward in her seat and stiffened her posture. The album on the iPod played quietly in the background, making the whole interaction that much more painful. Victoria gripped the steering wheel tightly and pointed out her chin, almost bravely.

“Do—do you like hanging out with me, Max?” Her question was asked so quietly that she almost missed it entirely.

Max shifted around and faced forward too, deciding Victoria preferred this less invasive angle of her body language in this moment. She could feel Victoria’s tenseness beat in waves across the center console.

Clearing her throat, she sighed, feeling truthful.

“Yeah, I think I do,” she answered securely. Max’s brain whizzed and brought up something Victoria had said to Max a few days ago. A small pull of her upper lip, she whispered, “You’re not entirely too awful, you know.”

Lowering her shoulders to their normal resting height, she scoffed quietly and turned her torso to peer at Max’s face. The blonde looked at her suspiciously, recognizing the line of dialogue. Beneath the suspicious glance, was a miniscule wonderment that could be missed if Max wasn’t watching every one of her face changes.

“Did you just…quote me, Caulfield?” Victoria lowered her eyes.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, reveling in the reaction.

“I guess I deserve that,” Victoria finally settled and the awkward tension then dissolved completely.

Max rubbed the back of her neck, feeling bad for seemingly turning down Victoria’s proposal.

“If—if we wind up doing the shopping thing—are you going to make me try on clothes?”

Victoria’s eyes darkened again, like the idea was the most pleasing thing she could ever think of in this life.

Max gulped.

“Oh, that’s one hundred percent happening.”

“Ugh,” Max mumbled exaggerating everything more so for show.

Victoria took another sip from the milkshake, this time more certain of its taste and contents and waggled her eyebrows in Max’s direction.

“I bet you’d look so cute in a blazer. Do you own a blazer?” she asked, taken faraway into her fashion ideas.

“Is that like a coat?”

“Oh, my _god_.”

“What? It’s like a coat, isn’t it? I don’t need another _coat_.”

“A blaz—you know what, we can argue about that on Friday.”

“If I can go.”

“Right.”

“Yeah…”

Victoria lifted the blanket from her lap quickly before shoving her hand out to Max for her to take the milkshake back. She reached up and elegantly flipped down her sunglasses hiding spot and pulled them out. She turned toward Max and slipped them on for show. Victoria gave Max a white toothed smile in a flash of perfect teeth.

Max gave her a hesitant grin back, still pondering on whatever a blazer really looked like, and turned up the music on the radio as her companion started the engine. Victoria reached down and pulled the car into drive.

“Okay…just so we’re clear on this… a blazer isn’t a coat?” Max asked, still suspicious of this news.

“Caulfield…you have no idea how much you kill me,” she laughed a bit sadly, driving through the parking lot as snow fluttered around the sport’s car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, did you enjoy like I told you to?
> 
> I wanted a chapter with Victoria tutoring Max AND a chapter of them snacking and listening to music together in the car... so we have both here! 
> 
> FYI this story may end up being an even number and stopping at 10 chapters. Just because I like all of you AND I like even numbered chapter stories. C:
> 
> Okay, so you've told me where you are all from now tell me your favorite Life is Strange character and why!!! I love talking to my friends! If you don't want to tell me your favorite character, leave what you want Santa to bring you for the holidays below!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are my life's blood so thanks for those in advance.
> 
> P.S.: Next chapter is Thanksgiving... so I'll let your mind wander on those possibilities. 
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	8. Pick a Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Thanksgiving and both Max and Victoria are stuck at Blackwell with no plans. Victoria hears footsteps run down the dorm hall. She knows it could be only one person and follows. With Max in a rough place, Victoria attempts to cheer her neighbor up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> I know it's been a while since I've last updated, but the holidays/work had me busy. I appreciate everyone reading and commenting. We're gearing up for the end here! Are you guys excited for the ending?
> 
> **I hope this chapter satisfies everyone after the long wait! I think it'll be a good one. ;)

**CHAPTER** **8: PICK A FORTUNE**

* * *

 

 

**CHAPTER 8**

_**{VICTORIA}** _

**THURSDAY; Late Morning**

 

Victoria sat in her desk chair doing her best to avoid any more black and white photo editing. Her eyes scanned an email received very early this morning from her father, Michael Chase:

**_Victoria,_ **

**_Hope you have been well during your break. Your mother and I are happy to announce that we’ve secured many pieces for the winter show for the Chase Space over here in the UK. Since it is Thanksgiving, we want to thank you for your hard work and dedication as an artist and daughter. Your mother and I wish you the best of Thanksgivings and we will be thinking of you tonight. We’ve managed to secure a spot at Celebrity Chef Gordon Ramsay’s five star tonight._ **

**_Like I had mentioned in the previous email, to which you have not responded, your mother would very much like it if you gave her a call tonight. It’s in your best interests to do so._ **

**_Please use the platinum for Black Friday shopping if you decide to go with some friends. Our treat._ **

**_Wishing you were here,_ **

**_Michael Chase_ **  
**_Founder and Co-Owner of the Renowned, “Chase Space” Art Gallery_ **  
**_Office: 555.222.8854_ **

_Wishing you were here… Yeah, fucking right, Father._

“It’s bullshit,” Victoria breathed, throwing herself into the back of her desk chair.

She shouldn’t be so annoyed by the email, but she was. She shouldn’t be _sad_ that her parents wouldn’t even give her the courtesy of a call today, but she was. She most certainly shouldn’t be surprised at the continued icy tone of the email, but she _was_.

Usually, these types of things wouldn’t get Victoria so irritated. Normally, she’d scoff it off and choke down her feelings whenever her parents reached out in some type of brisk, bland email. Something had been different and she couldn’t exactly pin-point what.

Her phone vibrated loudly against the wood surface of her desk and she gave a long sigh, closed her eyes, and reached for the phone.

_This isn’t going to ruin my day. You know what? I’m actually fucking **thankful** that I’m not with them for Thanksgiving dinner. Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve left me alone and it sure as fuck won’t be the last._

Victoria had gotten into the habit of avoiding her phone and most of social media since being stuck at Blackwell Academy over break. Everyone else kept posting photos of themselves seeing friends again, having big expensive house parties, and the nauseating couple photos with their cute little captions. It was too annoying to scroll through her feeds and see everyone else having a better time than her.

_That’s not fully true._

So she was kind of enjoying the solitude and the occasional meet-up and run-in with her neighbor across the hall.

_Big deal._

It didn’t totally make up for having a completely twisted backwards holiday without Nathan, the Prescotts and her parents. Not to mention her friends. She did miss them, even though they all lacked in close communication while at their separate schools. Nathan was definitely unable to be with her on Thanksgiving, given his _choices_.

Victoria was a social dream, could meet-up with a friend for the first time in a year and find something to talk about with them. She was fucking fantastic at the social game. She knew exactly what they wanted her to say and how they wanted her to react to things. They couldn’t throw Victoria Chase off her game. She wouldn’t let most of them get through the first two layers. What made it even better was, usually, they never bothered or wanted to try to reach further.

It was comfortable, familiar, rehearsed.

Everything was complete shades of black and white.

No greys.

Enemies over _there_ and friends over _here_.

Thing were not complicated and everyone knew how they felt about each other.

However, things for her over at Blackwell during holiday were so very _grey_. Multiple shades, confusing, frightening. There wasn’t a noticeable line and wherever the line was, it was being crossed, and Victoria found herself even more confused than previously.

Not just confused; _complicated_.

She had discovered too many things about herself that she had been avoiding or suppressing.

_Like the fact that you’re not fully straight at all, for one._

She outwardly winced, closing a fist around her cellphone. The idea of possibly having to come out to people, and especially her parents, made her underarms sweat and her skin grow clammy.

_We don’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other at home, how the fuck am I going to sit them down for a heart-to-heart about possibly being kind of gay?_

Victoria shook her head forcefully.

_HA. Maybe I should send them a fucking email._

Her phone vibrated in her clenched hand again and she clicked on it.

 **T-BABY:** heeeeyyy, girly!! You haven’t talked much since Sunday night and I wanted to make sure u r ok.

 **T-BABY:** and that I haven’t said anything to anyone about… u know.

 **T-BABY:** happy thanksgiving btw! Love ya vic!!  <3

 **T-BABY:** also that guy Greyson from the party keeps texting me about u wondering if he should send u a message he just broke up with his gf! I swear the dude has liked about ten of ur Instagram posts lol

 **T-BABY:** unless you don’t like men at all now.

 **T-BABY:** which is totally fine I get it, they are the worst creatures. Sucks being straight lol

Victoria raised a brow and sighed. She knew she had to text Taylor back. It was kind of liberating having Taylor in the know about some of her preferences. The one person who knew this about her and didn’t seem to give a shit. It was nice.

 **VICTORIA:** actuallyyyy I’m not sure if I’m interested in him. thanks tay! hope you have a good thanksgiving bitch!  <3

Unsurprised, Victoria watched as Taylor’s text message appeared almost as quickly as she sent it.

 **T-BABY:** oooOOO, guess that girl from before has u interested huh? ;) np! I guess if the dude was willing to break up with his gf to possibly have a chance at dating u, he’s probably uber clingy.

 **T-BABY:** so who is the mystery girl? Does she go to our school??

 **T-BABY:** ;)

Victoria felt her heart begin to quicken. She never considered actually having to tell anyone that she might like Max Caulfield.

_‘Might’, you’re so pathetic, Victoria. She threw up on your favorite cashmere sweater and you hardly cared at all._

This was where Victoria had to decide how to approach this situation. She could tell Taylor it was nobody for her to worry about, but the idea of having someone to talk to was so appealing to her. She could lie and say it was somebody from a different city, but Tay wouldn’t believe that as she said she wanted to kiss a girl very recently, which meant that the girl would have to be close enough to Victoria to want to do that. She could simply tell the truth…

_The truth._

Victoria inhaled sharply.

_Oh, god. The truth?_

What even was the truth? What was her plan on what to do with these unfamiliar feelings? Did she like Max enough to possibly out her whole entire reputation? Out her as someone who gets feelings for a hipster, quiet, loner with a long list of traumas?

_I don’t know._

And she didn’t know. She truly didn’t even know if Max liked her anyway. Sure, she figured out that Max thought Victoria Chase was attractive, but so did 90% of the school. What was uncomfortably odd to her was that she didn’t want to overwhelm the skittish brunette. Normally, when Victoria wanted someone, she didn’t care how or who she had to ruin to get them. She figured they were hers.

Max though, was a whole other complication. Not only was her carefully and sturdy built reputation at stake, but Max’s.

Obviously, it wouldn’t hurt Max’s status at all to be known as the person who was seeing Victoria Chase. It’d probably make the wallflower photographer seem even more mysterious and cool, if anything.

_But I’m not worried about Max’s social status._

She wasn’t, not really.

_I’m worried about her entire being._

Which was true. If Victoria wasn’t fully in this, then would it even be worth confusing and hurting Max to satisfy her own sick crush?

_So I’ve got a crush on Max._

_Yeah_ , she pondered, lip tucked into her cheek in consideration, _yeah, I’ve got a crush on a dreamy eyed hipster._

If Victoria had learned of herself coming to this type of revelation a few months ago, she’d have bullied herself after scoffing in absolute disbelief. The more she looked back on her mean actions geared at Caulfield before, the more she realized she didn’t know how else to talk to Max or get her attention. She didn’t realize then that maybe, possibly, there was the tiniest of kindling; a crush developing.

_Doesn’t excuse all the fucked up shit you’ve done and said._

And it didn’t, by any means.

_So I’ve got to be careful._

Victoria clicked back a response quickly.

 **VICTORIA:** I have to tell you in person… when you come back from break.

 **T-BABY:** ok! Im so excited to hear allllll about it! give ur crush a lil kiss from me ;)

 **VICTORIA:** oh, god. Stop.

 **T-BABY:** you haven’t kissed her yet? Oh man. U really like her don’t u?

Victoria swallowed heavily and stared at Taylor’s text.

 **VICTORIA:** I don’t know.

 **VICTORIA:** any advice?

She stared at her messages with Taylor as if they were the most important thing in the world. She didn’t know why she asked for Taylor’s advice, but she didn’t have many other options. Besides, Victoria’s brain was so confused and fried from everything lately that a second helping hand couldn’t hurt.

 **T-BABY:** does she like u? I mean who wouldn’t like u I’m just asking

Victoria lowered her hand a fraction. She felt nervous, her heart was racing.

Did Max like her back?

How could she after everything she had done? How could Max like her in a romantic sense after the history between the two were laid out for her to analyze? How could Max Caulfield like Victoria after she had obviously attempted to kiss Max Friday night and then proceeded to scream the brunette out of her room because she had been so hurt by Max’s clumsy rejection?

 **VICTORIA:** I don’t know.

Then Taylor’s response appeared.

 **T-BABY:** ask her dummy!!

_Yeah, right._

Victoria typed back.

 **VICTORIA:** its…complicated.

 **T-BABY:** then uncomplicate it. you’re Victoria freakin Chase.

_I’m Victoria fucking Chase._

As she began typing her response, a loud slamming of a dorm door caused her to flinch. A muffled female voice was heard in the hallway and then what sounded like the pounding of feet in a jog echoed down the hall.

_What the fuck was that?_

Victoria didn’t know why, but she had to go check it out, like something was willing her to. As far as she knew only one person was left on this floor of the dorm during holiday break. Someone very particular in room 219.

Cracking open her dorm door, she peered out. Max’s drawn stick figure with the wiggly frowny face on her whiteboard met her gaze. Room 219’s door was closed. Craning her neck down the hall, she spotted the back of Max Caulfield, jogging to the stairwell at the end of the hall.

_Where is she going?_

Victoria felt worried, like something had to be wrong. Max Caulfield, as far as she knew, didn’t do fun workout running routines at all, let alone during winter temperatures. She felt nosey, invasive, curious.

She pulled her head back into her room and closed the door. Looking down at her cozy wardrobe, she walked to her closet and pulled out her winter coat and hat. Slipping them on, she grabbed her pair of winter boots and slid them onto her feet.

_Did she have another panic attack or something?_

Victoria paused tying her boots and straightened her bent-over back, standing flabbergasted in the middle of her dorm room, blinking.

_Am I actually worried about her?_

She was. Victoria Chase was definitely worried about Max Caulfield.

Attempting to ignore her inner monologue, she finished tying her boots and grabbed her room key off her desk. She headed out of her door and came face to face with room 219.

Feeling particularly nosey, she walked across the hall and set her hand over the door handle. Gripping it tightly, she inhaled before swinging open the door to the empty room.

Last time she had seen the entirety of the hipster’s room, it had been an absolute mess. Cereal boxes decorating the desk, a wilting plant in the corner, a pile of men’s boxers sitting on the floor looking scandalous and sad.

_Which…is kind of attractive to know she sleeps in them._

Victoria sighed at her own thought, annoyed that it was popping up in a time like this, and she walked into the room.

It was less of a mess now, the boxes of cereal had been thrown away, the plant looked a bit less dead, and though the bed was unmade and there were still some forgotten clothes strewn about the floor, it looked overall, less depressing. A couple orange prescription pill bottles rested all around her nightstand.

Victoria felt kind of proud of Max for at least straightening a little, which was an odd thing to be proud of someone for. The bottle of pills made her feel heavy. She wished Max didn’t need to take anything at all.

She gazed at the messy bed and noticed a large box sitting there open and its contents strewn across the comforter.

Walking closer, despite her mind telling her to quit being so invasive, she picked up a photograph of two young looking girls, their arms around each other’s shoulders smiling stupidly at the photographer. One was a darker brunette, hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and the other, a gentle golden blonde with a crooked, mischievous grin. They both wore lopsided pirate hats.

“ _Oh_.” It hit Victoria then.

Her eyes looked up from the polaroid photo and she caught ‘ **Chloe’s Stuff** ’ written on the side of the beaten down box.

_Oh…_

Victoria then understood, clear and delivered.

She didn’t know what she would do if Nathan had been murdered so cruelly. To also have a friend murdered in the bathroom of the school that she was forced to attend day in and out would probably wear on Victoria every single day. To then see that murderer’s best friend, walking around, gossiping, flaunting in front of her would probably grind her gears so bad that she would surely snap viciously.

And _yet_.

Max was still so gentle.

Max still treated Victoria like a person worth her kindness.

_Someone worth her time and friendship._

Victoria then realized there was something she really shouldn’t do. Her face completely dropping.

_I can’t tell Max my feelings about her._

It would be cruel. It would be inappropriate. It would be dangerous.

Max was still unhinged and understandably so. What was better for her? Victoria spouting out her feelings and confusing her even more, scaring her, freaking her out? Or Victoria being quiet about her actual feelings, letting the girl be to heal in peace.

_I told her once before that I’m no good to be around._

She set down the photo carefully, Max’s childish, happy blue eyes piercing at her through the photograph. Caulfield was an adorable child. She even had her freckles then.

_I can’t do this to her. It’s not fair._

Victoria closed her eyes for a heavy moment and regained her composure. Upon opening them, she caught sight of a very familiar leather jacket at the floor of Max’s bed. The sight of Max fleeing down the hall flashed up and she realized that the brunette had been in a t-shirt.

_Oh, no._

Victoria inhaled, ready to go find her fleeing neighbor, bent over and picked up the jacket and threw it over her arm.

When Victoria had reached outside and into the flurry of snow, she shivered. Even wearing a down jacket didn’t seem to be enough. She squinted, looking through the white swirling of snow to find any evidence of life on campus. The parking lot was nearly fully empty, except for her foreign covered in white fluff, and the sidewalks were forgotten about and un-shoveled; overall, it was a ghost campus.

She rounded the corner, pulling the neckline of the jacket up around her exposed neck and pushed forward. The statue of Blackwell Academy stood regally over an empty campus.

A huddled figure sitting at the edge of the fountain with the founder’s statue in the middle caught her eye. She knew it couldn’t be any other person.

Victoria thought about calling out her name, but realized Max may be on edge and decided against it. She walked towards the center of campus, eyes squinting as her eyelashes caught a multitude of snowflakes.

She approached quietly and carefully and her ears perked at the sound of soft sniffling. Max’s brunette head of hair was covered in snow, weighing her hair down onto her face. She was visibly shivering, huddled over her knees, head down.

Victoria felt her palms begin to sweat as they hid inside of her warm coat pockets. She never felt this type of concern for another girl before. It certainly extended beyond friendly worry.

“Max?” she spoke as softly as her scratchy throat would allow.

The hunched over figure gave a little jump and wriggled around to turn to see her.

Max’s blue eyes were as piercing as Victoria had ever seen them, probably in combination of her red puffy eyes, red nose, and the light reflections from the snow in the late morning. Her eyes were wet and crystalline. Max stared at Victoria, half in shock and half in anger at being disturbed.

Victoria shivered and she wasn’t sure if it was from the icy chill or Max’s look. Max didn’t speak yet and Victoria wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

Victoria continued, slowly approaching closer, “I heard you run out of the dorm. I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she offered.

Max continued to stay mute and glared into Victoria’s eyes. Her eyes traveled downward and landed on the leather jacket in Victoria’s arms. Max blinked.

“Did you go into my room?” she asked, dead serious, a bit upset.

Victoria inspected the shivering form of Max Caulfield and when her eyes caught sight of the soaking wet, socked feet resting in the snow, she outwardly let out a gasp.

“Max, you’re not wearing shoes,” Victoria breathed, stepping closer.

Max gave her a cruel, half grin. “Great deduction, Sherlock,” she snapped.

_Alright, I deserved that._

Victoria suddenly felt like she had no control over this situation at all. She looked down at Chloe’s folded jacket in her arms and back to Max’s glowering, pale white face.

She slowly held it out to Max, now only being a foot or two away from the skittish girl.

“Please, at least put this on. You’re shaking and wearing a t-shirt!” Victoria said a bit more aggressively than she probably should have.

Max’s eyes flickered off into the distant outstretch of campus.

“ _And_ I’m wearing no shoes,” she mumbled, dazed. “Fashion _faux pas_.”

“You’re speaking French now too?”

Victoria gently shook the jacket to attempt to grab Max’s attention. She looked entirely spaced out, edging on scary.

_She’s speaking in French. This is not good._

“Let’s go back inside where it’s warm, Max. You’re going to freeze to death,” she warned with an honest amount of concern.

“Good. It’s probably what I deserve anyway.” The brunette peered over at Victoria, her tears silently gliding down her white cheeks. Her blue eyes stung hers.

“Don’t you ever say that type of shit, Caulfield. Don’t you say that,” Victoria’s voice raised in pitch beyond her control.

_Is she in the middle of an attack? Is this a PTSD attack? Is she just really upset?_

Victoria knew how Nathan would get during them so at the very least this whole interaction was vaguely familiar to her. She knew how to keep cautious and wary, to be comforting, to let them know that they were cared about after. Nathan however, was either scarily loud and angry, or eerily silent and still. He never had a middle ground in anything.

“I’m just saying what’s true. Why am I the one that’s alive? Why did it have to be me?” Max dropped her gaze and whispered, lower lips trembling from the cold and her questions.

_This is about Chloe._

Victoria took back everything she had thought about this type of situation being vaguely familiar. Throwing all that knowledge out the window in her brain’s trash bin, she inhaled sharply.

“Maxine Caulfield. I really don’t know what to do here and I don’t know why you’re asking those types of questions, but you are out here shaking in the _cold_ punishing yourself for being here. You’re important to a lot of people. People love you and _you love them back_. Chloe loved you, Max…she must have. I’m sure she’d have done anything to make sure you were the one that survived in this life. I can tell. She’s so goddamn loyal, you would _not even believe_ —,”

Victoria tucked her elbow into her side and shook her head, obviously going off track. Snowflakes caught her eyelashes as she looked down at Max’s balled up self.

“ _Sorry_. What I’m trying to say is that, what would Chloe want for you? Would she want to see you like this, punishing yourself? Telling yourself that you don’t deserve to be here right now in this little moment in time? What would she say?”

“I know I don’t want this for you. I care about what happens to you.” Victoria ended, huffing, attempting to avoid any eye contact with the fragile, pretty girl.

_Maybe I said too much, maybe I said just enough._

Victoria wasn’t prepared for what happened next. The brunette reached her hand up and pulled at Victoria’s outstretched wrist, pulling her closer. Taken off guard, Victoria widened her eyes and made eye contact. Max’s bright blue eyes changed in a flash from a stage of dull anger to despair.

Victoria outwardly let out a weird noise before Max’s soaking wet head buried itself into Victoria Chase’s stomach.

Then she began to cry.

_Oh, Jesus. What do I do?_

She honestly had no idea what to do other than stand there, shielding Max’s small, quivering frame from oncoming snowflakes. Her heart raced in her chest because Max had always been the type to take her completely off guard.

_Fucking hug her, you idiot. It’s what Max would do for you. No judgement. Just be here._

Victoria inhaled shakily, understanding how to act. The least she could do was wrap her arms around the sobbing girl.

So she did. She reached around and pulled Max closer without worry of reputation or status. Just two human beings needing each other for a little moment. Time seemed to slow, flakes of white seemed to fall a bit more gently and cinematically. It was very, very strange to Victoria.

“Shh… it’s okay. What’s happening with you?” she asked softly, her right hand settling at the snowy, wet top of Max’s head.

Max mumbled something unintelligible into Victoria’s downy stomach. Her voice sounded so small, delicate, and sad that it pulled a weird feeling from deep inside of Victoria. Victoria gave Max’s shoulders a pat and gently lifted Max’s chin so she could see her entire face.

Her tiny spread of freckles looked darker due to the paleness of her skin in the chill. Her lips were a dark purple color. Her blue eyes were still piercing, yet they had a deep aching from within them. An aching that had history.

“I’m sorry,” Max wheezed, attempting to control her voice.

“Don’t be sorry.” Victoria sighed, thankful Max spoke to her at all.

The brunette’s eyes met the jacket in Victoria’s arm and she slowly reached and grabbed it. Standing from the cowering position on the edge of the fountain, she straightened up and put her snowy covered arms and shoulders into the jacket. The entire time, her gaze avoided Victoria. It was like she was thinking through a hundred serious things all at once; deciding, considering.

“Thanks. See you,” she said quietly, wiping a last freezing tear away.

Max brushed past her, avoiding Victoria’s very confused face.

Victoria turned on her heel and huffed, perplexed and hurt. She began following behind Max.

“Max… _Max seriously_?”

“I think I need to be alone.” Max said over her shoulder.

Victoria stopped in her tracks, stood there stunned, shoulders and head collecting a layer of snow, staring in the direction where Max had taken off to. Snow tracks were all that hinted at her ever being there.

* * *

 

_**{MAX}** _

**THURSDAY; Early Evening**

 

_“Can we be blood brothers?” The tall, skinny girl with golden hair asked, flipping a wooden sword around her hand. She was thinking hard. Sitting in the soft grass, she looked up at Max._

_Max giggled, swinging her mock-pirate sword ahead of her, practicing for their final battle with the pirate boss._

_“Wouldn’t we be like…blood best friends? Or blood sisters?”_

_Chloe scrunched her nose in disgust. “You know what, we will be Captain and First Mate.”_

_Max swung again._

_“Okay,” she hummed happily._

_The golden lights of summer twinkled through the rustling branches of trees, the grass was soft on her bare feet. Joyce’s apple pie baking in the oven would occasionally drift delicious, sweet scents through the kitchen window._

_Chloe gave her a soft, almost shy smile. Her greyish eyes had their usual childish spark. Max smiled back, very happy to be spending time with her._

_“That way, if we fell in love at sea, it wouldn’t be weird.” Chloe said as nonchalantly as any child could._

_Max furrowed her brow and fiddled with her ponytail, thinking hard._

_“Do people fall in love at sea? Do pirates?” Max wondered aloud._

_Chloe’s grin grew in excitement. She jumped up from her seated position and speared an imaginary enemy ahead of her. Golden hair sparkled in the setting sun’s orange rays._

_“Oh, yeah. Fighting enemies, slaying sirens on the Caribbean shores, rescuing our crew and each other for the rest of time… It’s very romantic, duh. Killing giant sea demons.”_

_Max lowered her sword, imagining it. “Pirates probably fall in love all the time. They always do in the books.”_

_Chloe shrugged, “Even between all the flying sea monster guts they still find love. It’s awesome.”_

_Max pictured two pirates kissing beneath the green slime of monster snot and made a grossed-out face. “Doesn’t seem very romantic. Love should be like… laughing and rescuing each other from the bad stuff.”_

_Chloe lowered her eyes and gave Max a lopsided grin. “Love is strange. It doesn’t make sense, but it always happens when you get older.”_

_“Well then pirate Chloe, at least we only have to worry about fighting the boss to release the prisoners!” Max jumped once and slashed ahead of her with her painted sword, giggling again._

_“You know I’d always save you. No matter what. If I don’t make it through this mission, Captain, go on without me. Swear to me—on oath that you will.”_

_Max steadied her sword arm and waved it in front of her, peering at the countless enemies they would have to get through. She turned her head, glad to see Chloe perched, ready to go beside her as they braced for the battle of a lifetime in the backyard._

_“I swear.”_

\--

Max’s eyes slowly fluttered open and she slowly came to, sprawled on her back, staring at the dark ceiling. She didn’t want to move or budge because she was terrified that if she did, all the warmth of the golden-haired girl would dissolve.

“ _I swear_.” Max repeated, dazed.

Inhaling slowly, her chest seemed to creak in the darkness of her room.

It had been the first time she ever had a dream of Chloe that didn’t send her into a spiral of despair. They had always been horrific, sad, or painful.

_Well, that was a different type of painful._

The dream felt more like a memory and Max figured it probably was. With its ethereal child-like essence came a feeling of déjà vu. It was vivid, lively, as if Max had traveled back in time through a photograph like she had done before.

Only, she hadn’t.

Young Chloe’s warm, sunlit face flashed in front of her eyes. She felt her upper lip begin to quiver. She was overwhelmed by the dreamy vision. It was like her chest was swollen with a great happiness.

_Like she was with me again. Us two._

Max felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She scrunched up her features and threw her hands up to cover her entire face with the baggy sleeves of her mother’s comfortable hoodie. Through rattled breaths, she cried again for the second time in a matter of hours.

This time was different. This time, an ever-present weight, a heavy pressure on her heart, lifted and it was first time she had been able to breathe since their goodbyes at the lighthouse. The pain in Max’s heart wasn’t gone, but she felt a little lighter than before she fell asleep.

_Maybe it will be just enough to make me feel a bit better._

Chloe’s warm laugh reverberated in the folds of her memories. Chloe’s words and Chloe’s coy smile. Chloe’s oath.

_I haven’t been true to my oath, have I?_

Max had never cried from a mixed combination of melancholy and happiness before. It was very unfamiliar. It caused other things to bubble up into her face-covering cries.

How could she feel this wave of thankfulness? She didn’t know why, but she was thankful. Max got to meet Chloe and love her, however she did and whatever way that was, she was still lucky enough in her lifetime to play pirates in the Price’s backyard with her best friend.

_I got to know her._

It hit her like a train.

_I’m always going to be missing that part of me._

Chloe had been there through a lot of the childhood memories she could recall. Much of her own persona and sense of self had been a cultivation of her childhood and life with Chloe; the building blocks of Max’s own foundation.

And now, that huge, important chunk of her life was gone. That was why she was scrambling, grasping out for the bits and pieces of whatever was left of her foundation. It wasn’t just that Chloe’s was gone, but so was a slice of Max.

_One without the other._

In some other reality, Max then knew that Chloe was out there somewhere, her energy was too resilient to be squandered. Too important to be no longer a burst of human starlight. Somewhere, Chloe was out there, living life big and loud and risky. Perhaps, just perhaps, Max could be seen with her somewhere nearby. Forever rescuing each other, laughing, loving in some form; it was the truest belief she ever had.

And it felt so fucking good to believe in that.

_But… how do I go on without you? When so much of you is within me?_

Chloe’s young, round face greeted her again behind covered, weeping eyes.

_“If I don’t make it through this mission, Captain, go on without me.”_

To go on without her? To trudge through the rest of life without Chloe sounded impossible, devastating, and a lot less fun. Max couldn’t even imagine herself a year from now, how would she survive life without Chloe?

_One day at a time?_

_One pirate boss fight at a time. One step at a time. One breath after the first. One photograph, then the second, and third and so on and so on…_

_Just like Victoria said._

Max slowly began to pull her wet covered sleeves down her face, remembering her devastating time earlier in the day.

_Oh. Victoria…_

Her heart began to beat a bit faster as she remembered the hurt, watery eyed look Victoria had given her when she demanded to be alone. She walked away and left her in the cold.

_Literally._

Chewing on the edge of her sleeve like a nervous child, guilt hit her ribcage like a train zooming through an empty stop.

Max had never expected anybody, let alone Victoria, to come chasing after her into the snow. Max wasn’t even thinking clearly or fully at all.

Earlier that morning, she had just gotten off the phone with her father who had updated Max on her grandma’s condition. Her parents were calling Max to let her know that Gran would be taken off life support on Friday morning, as things were certainly not going to get any better.

They didn’t want her to be in any pain anymore. They asked Max, through watery voices, if she wanted them to pass on any last goodbyes. Choking through a rambling goodbye, her parents obliged, told her that they both loved her more than anything, and took their leave to be by Max’s grandmother’s side for her last few hours on Earth.

This sent Max into a spiral. This sent Max deep into the ‘ **Chloe’s Stuff** ’ box. Her mind became her worst enemy and she spent about an hour crying and verbally abusing herself about everything she ever did wrong.

Eventually, a crude flashback of Chloe soaking wet on the path of the lighthouse sent her reeling, running, and rushing out of the Blackwell girl’s dormitory. Not even a pair of shoes or coat to protect her. She didn’t care. She didn’t even notice she lacked the appropriate attire until Victoria showed up outside with Chloe’s jacket around her arm, looking open, soft, and warm.

_I shouldn’t have run away from her like that. She’s probably super mad at me for it._

Earlier on, in a moment of huge weakness, she pulled Victoria to her and wept into her torso. Victoria had been looking at her in such a way that made Max need her comforting. Her green eyes were bright in the snowy light, yet they were truthful—worried even. When Victoria had made a frazzled, pink-cheeked huff about caring for Max, it meant a lot.

_Because it was real._

Victoria showed up in a weird twist of fate after her nightmare about Chloe at the Two Whales and had injured her face. Victoria was there when she had a major panic attack on the city bus. Victoria had been the one to force her to sit on her ass for hours on end to study for film class to get her grades back up so she wouldn’t lose her scholarship. Victoria had inadvertently caused Max to take her first photograph in two months…

It was like fate, or something as powerful, kept pushing the two girls together.

Max knew a lot and yet very little about Victoria Chase. Calculated, charming, beautiful, well-read, intelligent, dutiful, sarcastic, influential. Private, self-conscious, snarky, harsh, icy, angry, wealthy, flashy, ego-centric.

_And yet…_

Victoria Chase was kind, caring, misunderstood.

Victoria Chase did not put herself out there for other people unless it was something she personally wanted to do. That Max knew. Max would stick her neck out for nearly any person on the street. Victoria was very self-sustaining and protective. She was goal oriented and self-preserving.

_Yet, she’s cared about me._

Things were beginning to clear in her mind and in her heart.

_Victoria does care about me. Somehow…_

Why else would she consistently put herself on the line for Max’s sake? She did throw up on her expensive cashmere after all and surprisingly didn’t receive any negative feedback for it. Victoria seemed to be almost making a point in showing up in Max’s life at times where it was better to have someone there.

All of this clicking in of pieces of the mystery puzzle that was Victoria caused Max’s racing heart to flutter nervously. Max never really considered for long that maybe Victoria had a particular soft spot for Max. It used to be too ridiculous to consider, at least in her understanding.

Max was awkward, shy, forgettable. Victoria was poised, impactful, and demanding of attention. Why would Max ever think something as ridiculous as Victoria Chase wanting to be around her for more than mere friendly reasons?

Thing was, Max wasn’t so sure it was all that ridiculous anymore. Yet, she couldn’t bet money on it and be positive that Victoria had any deeper feelings for her than just the friendly kind. Max figured that she’d go and scare Victoria away, keep her from getting any closer, as people had a bad habit of either leaving or dying around Max. Being cold to her outside earlier may not have been the kindest choice, given Victoria’s pained reaction. At the time, Max didn’t want to bother Victoria anymore with her scarred personal shit.

She didn’t want to make Victoria care about her.

_But she does. She said so._

A very sudden and melodic knocking of the door occurred. Max flinched from surprise and uncovered her face. She took in a cool, non-damp breath for the first time in minutes and stared up at the ceiling again.

She knew who it was.

Max had to decide exactly how she was going to approach this; how she was going to approach the way she felt about her situation with Victoria.

If anything, she felt lighter. She felt like the fogginess of her feelings were destined to clear ahead. She felt like a cinderblock had been cut from her ankles, allowing her to fly a bit off the ground if she felt strong enough too.

She sensed that she had to keep her childhood promise to Chloe. The smiling, laughing, young blonde girl.

Chloe had sacrificed herself for not only all of Arcadia Bay and its unknowing, unthankful residents, but she had given up her life for Max.

_Where is my life even going from here?_

She didn’t know if any of that future life included Victoria. She couldn’t even fathom what would happen after she answered the knocking at the door.

_A few steps at a time; one pirate boss at a time, one sword wave after another._

Max wiped any remaining wetness from her cheeks, inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times, and sat up in bed. The world seemed to sway slightly from laying down for so long. Ignoring it, she swung her legs off the bed and stood up, for the first time, feeling more solidified than she had in months.

When she reached the door, she stared at the handle and the tiny buzzing of nerves fluttered in her gut.

_It’s just Victoria._

Which was true, only now, Max had a whole new insight into her situation.

She pushed down on the handle after another round of melodic knocking rattled the door. Pulling it open, she felt a gentle smile bloom on her face.

“Oh, thank _god_.” Victoria sighed in earnest relief. “I was worried you…I was _worried_ maybe you might have gone and done something since you weren’t answering.” Victoria’s eyes looked genuinely worried, anxious, searching.

_She came back?_

A wonderful, beautiful fried food smell hit her nostrils. Her stomach jumped in excitement at the alluring scent of fried carbs and greasy foods.

"Jeeze, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you worry like that." Max sheepishly frowned.

Victoria opened her mouth and inhaled slowly before gradually exhaling, eyes closed. Her breath seemed to quiver. Looking a bit more relaxed, she opened her eyes and gave Max a shy smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she grinned, lifting a giant stapled paper bag of food for Max to see.

Max looked from the bag with a grease stained corner to Victoria’s cautious, yet shy smile. She truly wasn’t sure how to react to this beautiful girl warily at her doorway holding up a peace offering of food.

Victoria looked like a fish out of water. She was in a usual, dressy expensive outfit, make-up done, all the workings of a high-class girl. Yet here she stood, blushing, holding out a bag of greasy take out, looking like all she wanted was for Max to invite her in and give her a chance.

So that’s what Max decided she was going to do.

Max locked eyes with her and opened the door wider to the dark entrance of her room.

“I know you said you wanted to be alone, but it’s Thanksgiving. Even though the history of this holiday is atrocious, it still counts as a holiday. Anyway, I had absolutely no idea what type of Chinese take-out you liked, so I bought a bunch of different things so eat whatever you want. If I have to be honest, I really don’t want to be by myself and I hope you don’t want to be alone either. If you do…that’s okay, I guess. I’ll take some rice and go back to my room. I just didn’t…I just wanted to make sure you ate something. You’re so skinny—,”

Victoria stood in the darkness of Max’s room, clutching the bag of food like it was her lifeline, speaking out her stringing line of thoughts.

_She’s nervous._

“—Vic. It’s fine. I’m glad you came.” Max cut her off gently, before she traveled down a road where she’d get too embarrassed by the things she was spewing.

Victoria blushed heavily then, eyelashes fluttering in a flurry of blinks. Even in the darkness of the room, Max could see the color change in her face.

“Did you just call me _Vic_?” she asked, a note of surprise in her voice.

Max shook her head in the dark of the room and fumbled for her wall lights.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out like that. I didn’t mean any—,”

“—No, it’s fine. I kind of like it when you say it,” Victoria worded carefully.

Max flipped on the lights and her room was doused in an orangey, warm light. Snow drifted past the blue color of the night and overall, the aesthetic of the room was quite nice. The air felt lighter even.

Victoria stood in the silence of the room, still clinging to the take-out bag, watching Max from across the room. Max swung her arms at her side and gave Victoria a timid, encouraging pull of the lips. Rocking back and forth on her heels, Victoria cleared her throat.

_She’s not in her space, she’s in mine and she is uncertain on how to act._

“Do you want me to slice up the turkey?” Max asked, her brow raising in a playful manner.

Victoria’s brows furrowed in confusion for a moment.

“Or say the first prayer?” Max continued.

“Is that how your family does Thanksgiving stuff?” she asked, interested.

“Yours doesn’t?” Max quipped.

“No. The chef normally does the slicing and the Chases aren’t really prayer people. Nor are they ones for sappy, sentimentalities like speeches on what everyone is thankful for. It’s more like ‘we’re thankful for the 10.5% increased foot traffic of the Chase Space this year. Let’s toast four-hundred-dollar champagne to that’.”

Max gave her a grimace, “Sounds really fun.”

Victoria seemed to ponder it and shook her head. “Not really, no. At the very least I get to see them together in the same room—my parents.”

Max winced and frowned, “I’d never do that to my children. That’s horrible.”

Victoria, taken aback, flared her nostrils. Her face hardened. Max wondered if she overstepped her opinion on the Chase’s values. Right before she was about to open her mouth to apologize for talking like an ass, Victoria’s face softened up and she looked almost gloomy.

“You’re right, it is horrible. If I’m ever a mom, I think a Thanksgiving like yours would be what I would do. I imagine your parents are great people. Loving…funny…welcoming. _Actually thankful_ for the things in their lives.”

Max shrugged, “They’re usually pretty great.”

Victoria gazed at Max through her dark eyelashes, her expression genuine.

“Explains a lot about who you are. Why you’re so… _you_. Kind, soft, curious, thoughtful…you’re a ridiculously striking girl. I guess I’m beginning to understand why multiple people had these tiny obvious crushes on you.”

_Oh._

Max attempted to ignore the tiny fluttering in her stomach at Victoria’s compliments. It seemed so natural and comfortable for her to admit it—let it hang on the open air. It surprised Max, that boost of vibrato.

“Wait…did you just call me _striking_?” Max gave the flustered blonde a coy raise of the brow.

Victoria seemed to grow an inch or two. She looked like she was bumbling for something to say back to that.

“So what? That’s just what I think. I think you’re handsome too, but I’ll stop there so you don’t have a heart attack.” Victoria settled on responding. She looked like a hen who had just had her feathers rustled.

“I’d feel like you’d settle for ‘small and cute like a bunny rabbit’. Or ‘hipster baby’. I never expected to be called handsome in my life.” Max grinned, having a fun time watching the shade of pink deepen in her cheeks every second Max stared at her.

Victoria threw a hand on her hip and sighed dramatically, “Oh, God. You never pay attention to anything, do you? Well, _whatever_. You need to eat this before it gets all cold and even grosser. I’ll pick through whatever you don’t want.”

Max’s jaw dropped, “You…don’t like Chinese take-out?”

Victoria set the bag down on the middle of Max’s floor. She found a comfortable cross-legged position and opened the bag. She pulled out a carton and held it up to Max, who still stood looking shaken.

“Of course I do. This style has just a bit more…hole in the wall, greasy, heartburn pit type of aesthetic to the food.”

Max’s mouth formed into a line before she spoke, “You’ve never ate this type before, have you?”

Victoria rolled her eyes, set down Max’s container, and opened a can of Sprite from the bag.

“I’m not like—I’m not that entirely stuck-up, Max. I eat normal teenager food too. What do you think I eat all day? Like caviar and sparkling glacier water?”

Letting out a laugh, Max clutched at her stomach and let Victoria’s face drive her into a wave of laughter.

“What’s so funny? Did you actually think that?”

Max waved her hand and straightened up, gaining some control over her laughter.

“I might have thought that at the beginning of the year,” Max gave a sheepish smile. “Victoria, you _wanted_ me to think you were the type of person to only eat raw fish eggs and salty fizz water.”

Victoria opened her mouth in disbelief for a moment. She looked like she wanted to argue, but took a sip of soda and her face went searching.

“I guess you’re right, I didn’t want to give you a reason to think I was a real person. I didn’t want to give anybody the reason to think that I was scared, weak, and confused just like everyone else here. I was supposed to be above all that real person shit.”

Max tiled her head, observing this small, collapsing frame of Victoria.

“That’s all anyone thinks I am anymore,” she breathed. “You know, since she died here in that way. People see me and they get reminded of what happened. It's like I can see the flash in their eyes the moment they do. I can see the moment they're not looking at _me_ anymore."

Victoria inhaled sharply, took another sip of soda and nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

“You’re not. You’re not some broken thing. Well, maybe you’re in need of a few repairs, but we _all do._ ” Victoria set down her can and looked up at Max, hands folding elegantly in her lap. “But you’re not weak. I try to put myself in your shoes almost every day; You know like...how would I feel about Nathan being murdered on school grounds, while I was there, and having to face the rest of my life being haunted by something like that? Not even including all the other things that would complicate it, my family, my friends, myself. The only way I see myself reacting to a huge, horrible situation like that is by being the actual worst person on this planet. I’d probably be an evil, lashing-out rich bitch monster.”

Max eyed her curiously, as if she was doubting most of this.

Victoria then shook her head, scrunched her face and waved her hand. “I _am_ an evil, rich bitch monster.”

Max didn’t dare say a thing, she was so afraid to interject.

Victoria rubbed her hands down her face and brought her knees to her chest. She inhaled a quaking breath and spoke again.

“I wish I could—you make a lot of things complicated for me. I’d like it if we could just change the topic and try to enjoy our Thanksgiving. You’ve had a really bad day. I’ve had a bad day. I want to make it a good day.”

Max winced and she knew she had to get closer to Victoria. It was a familiar instinct. Max knew when people wanted their space and when they wanted her closer. Chloe could be a ticking time bomb of emotions; she had to know how to read the signals right. Eventually, it translated into knowledge she could use with other people too. Her friends, her parents, Victoria.

Curling her feet underneath her, she sat next to her tense and tired looking neighbor. They sat in silence for a moment before Victoria cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry about your grandma. I wish the universe would give you a break.”

Max nodded, “A little time-out would be nice, but thank you.” Max peered at Victoria through the corner of her eye and she gave a small grin. “This means a lot to me…that you showed up like this. I acted like an ass when you were only trying to help.”

Victoria swallowed, “No. Don’t apologize. I’ve done my fair share of ass-like things. I shouldn’t have gone in your room without you being there. I was a little worried, okay? I kind of saw the box, but it gave me a clue as to what happened to cause you to run off like that. You weren’t wearing a coat so I—,”

Max shrugged and leaned over to tap her shoulder against Victoria’s. Victoria caught Max’s relaxed face and she seemed to lose some of her tension.

“Look at us,” Max bemused. “A couple of real people in their real people shit feelings.”

Victoria turned her head and frowned heavily. “Can we please eat now instead of getting all weird about feelings?”

Max snorted and reached for a container of pork fried rice. She opened it happily and dug a plastic fork into it. Tiny swirls of steam wafted to her and she felt her mouth water.

Blackwell had been terrible for food during fall break. Since so few little students remained behind, the cafeteria had been mostly serving turkey and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, and egg salad sandwiches. To say she was thankful for the Chinese Food would be an understatement.

They both sat there, cross-legged on the floor brushed in soft golden light, talking between moments of eating and enjoying the company. Max would smile. Victoria would smile. It went this way for about an hour.

Max found a comfortable position of laying on the floor, cuddling a pillow from her bed in her arms. Victoria sat, legs laid delicately to the side on Max’s futon.

“Wait. We forgot to get our fortunes!” Max sat up quickly, very similarly to a child given the prospect of ice cream.

Victoria gave her a soft eyed smile from the futon, her lip curved in amusement.

“You’re more excited for the fortune cookies than you were for the whole meal,” Victoria scoffed gently.

Max gave her a big smile. She thought fortune cookies were always the fun part of eating take-out. Max and her father used to ponder about what everyone’s fortune could mean.

Reaching for the bag she grabbed two cookies and brought her hand up to Victoria, letting her choose hers first.

“Pick your fortune, Chase,” Max playfully waggled her brows.

Victoria attempted to suppress a grin. “Alright, Caulfield. I pick this one,” Victoria reached down and snatched a fortune up. “We will look at them at the same time.”

Max raised a brow, happy for her willingness to participate. “Okay, deal.”

The girls watched each other open the cookies from their flimsy, plastic baggies and cracked them down the middle. Max raised her fortune to her face to read in the dim setting:

_**The journey of a thousand miles** _  
_**Must begin with a single step.** _

Max pondered it and seemed to find it relatable to her life. The fortunes were usual universally applicable.

“Mine’s pretty accurate, what about yours?” she asked over her held up fortune message.

Victoria’s face was fixed in deep thought, yet her eyes looked a bit flustered, if anything. Pink tint brushed her cheeks.

“Mine’s lame. Says, _‘I’ll win money’_ or something.” She reflected and looked down at her watch.

Victoria suddenly stood, gave an elegant stretch, and grabbed her jacket.

“Listen. You told me you would come Black Friday shopping with me, so let’s go to bed and I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Max wasn’t sure if the vibe in the room got a bit weird or not, but she could tell Victoria needed to excuse herself. She decided Victoria had a long day and Max hadn’t necessarily made the girl’s day any better, so she didn’t say anything on Victoria wanting to leave so suddenly.

Victoria eyed the bag of trash and then to her coat.

“Oh, should we like…clean up real fast? I’m trying to be a little more… _thoughtful_.”

Max gave her a casual smile. “Nah, you bought it. I’ll clean it up. Thanks for making a good Thanksgiving dinner.”

Victoria seemed taken aback by Max’s thoughtfulness and she lowered her chin and a small, shy smile graced her glossy lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you’re ready.”

“I don’t think anything in my life will prepare me for Black Friday Shopping with Victoria Chase.” Max laughed, grabbing their forgotten cartons and napkins at the floor.

Victoria lifted her chin again and gave a small wave. “See ya, Caulfield.”

And Max waved until the latch of the door was heard.

_Tonight didn’t turn out bad at all._

Max stuffed the trash into the bag and reached for the Sprite can on the small side table. She crunched it in her hand and tossed it in. A tiny, crumpled piece of paper sat next to the can and Max dropped the bag of empty containers and it hit the floor with a soft thud.

_Her fortune._

Max picked it up with two fingers and lifted it so she could read its secrets, hopefully all there in Victoria’s fortune.

**_The one who you admire greatly_ **  
**_Is before your very eyes, waiting._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOO!!!!
> 
> We love a good fortune!
> 
> What are your thoughts? Also, I'm eating Chinese take-out for dinner right now in celebration of posting a new chapter.
> 
> Who would win in an argument? Victoria or Chloe?
> 
> Please leave some thoughts, comments, predictions, song/album recommendations (if you have any) and whatever else you want to tell me.
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	9. Shop Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Max head over to the mall on an early Black Friday morning for a shopping trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, friends!
> 
> Back with chapter nine! This one is Victoria heavy, but sometimes we just need a Victoria heavy chapter. One chapter left! I'm really excited about Chapter 10. I think you'll be happy with it. 
> 
> As always, please leave some comments and kudos below if you enjoy the work. :)

**CHAPTER 9:** **Shop Girls**

* * *

 

 

_**{VICTORIA}** _

**FRIDAY; early morning**

 

Victoria probably knew she was doing too much.

Putting on eyeliner, mascara, rouging her cheeks. Wearing a cute, but casual outfit that still showed off her figure. She needed a semblance of who she was and what she looked like when she was in her fashion zone.

_Even though it’s five in the morning and it’s ridiculous to even bother looking cute this early._

Victoria didn’t usually wake up extremely early for much, but she and Max had planned to go shopping. This was Victoria’s comfort zone, so she decided she needed to look the part.

She didn’t know whether Max would wear anything other than sweatpants. If she was being honest, she didn’t even really care if Max did wear sweatpants. She was just glad to get out of Blackwell and do some damage on her father’s credit card with her ocean-eyed neighbor.

_And to hang out with Max, just admit it. Why else would you be trying to look cute right now?_

Victoria, annoyed at herself, slipped on her coat, grabbed her purse and strode over to the door across the hall. Until this moment, she realized Max was probably still sleeping as Victoria had failed to really give Max a time to meet.

_Sleepy Max._

It wasn’t the worst thing to come face to face with early in the morning. The notion gave her heart a small flutter. It was a… _different experience._

_Weird, but I don’t hate it._

Victoria knocked melodically on the door, her nerves slowly beginning to buzz. After a period of silence, Victoria knocked patiently again.

She heard some shuffling behind the door and a muffled curse. The door swung open slowly and Max gave her a squinted, dazed look over Victoria’s rather dressed up figure. Her one eye was squinted closed from the brightness of the hallway light.

She rubbed her knee mindlessly. Victoria figured Max being the klutz she was, banged her knee on something on her way to the door.

“Why do you look so pretty this early in the morning…” Max moved her hand and rubbed her closed eye. “We’re just going _shopping_.”

Victoria gave her an apologetic frown. “It’s just my thing, Caulfield. You look _tired_.” She tried not to pay attention to the fact that Max noticed her attempt and called her _pretty_.

Max looked over her shoulder at the clock on her desk and she scoffed. “Well yeah, I’m tired. It’s 5:05 a.m.”

Victoria smiled, gave a shrug and tapped her watch. “Time is wasting. Throw on some sweatpants and come along.”

Max raised a suspicious brow, “You’re fine with me wearing sweatpants?”

Letting her eyes roll over Max’s boxer-clad lower half, she grinned, pleased.

“Yeah, I’m going to get you out of those sweatpants later, anyway.” Victoria didn’t mean to say it with all that vibrato, but it was too late.

Their eyes met.

Max blushed a dark red and she absent-mindedly tugged down at her sweater. She still looked up at her through tired, squinted eyes.

“When I originally said okay to this deal, I didn’t think that we would be shopping before the sun was even up. Why would anyone need to do that?”

“Because it’s fun, that’s why.”

Victoria gave her a smirk and grabbed the handle to her bedroom door. Max blinked.

“I hope you’re right, about it being _fun_ ,” Max nodded to her attire.

Victoria closed it with a swift move and leaned closer to Max’s door so she could hear Victoria through the door.

“Get ready, I’ll see you soon. Knock on my door when you’re ready to leave.”

She turned around and headed back to her room, counting the minutes until she heard a tiny, hesitant knock at her door. She had been sitting on her couch scrolling through the late-night posts from earlier that her feed had summoned.

Grateful Max was ready about thirty minutes later, she stood up, collected herself, and swung open the door to see a much less tired, neutral face of Max Caulfield. The brunette was wearing a plain black t-shirt, her grey, faded hoodie, and the leather jacket. Her converse laces were tied around the ankle of her high-tops and Victoria found herself wondering if Max was doing that for a look, or if her feet were small and the laces too long. Either way, Victoria kind of liked how it came together. She smiled, noticing the tired girl decided to at least wear a pair of black skinny jeans.

“Sorry, it was all I had left that was clean.” Max yawned through her words.

“Well—you did fine. It’s cute, for you. I was beginning to accept that you’d come out in sweatpants.”

“I would have worn sweatpants if I didn’t wear every pair I own already,” Max smiled sheepishly.

Victoria waved her hand, “We’re going to have a little bit of a drive to get to a city with a decent mall, so I hope you’ve got some good hipster playlists for me on the drive there and back.” Victoria toyed, stepping out of her room and locking the door.

Max furrowed her brows. “You mean, you _want_ to listen to my kind of music?”

Victoria scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself. We seem to have more in common than we thought originally, so maybe I’ll know a few of your favorites.”

A hesitant, plotting smile spread along Max’s face. Victoria couldn’t help but grin back.

“Oh, no. What are you thinking, Caulfield?” Victoria frowned gently.

“Well, other than the hipster stuff, I’m thinking of maybe a few Christmas songs. Holiday hits. A little Michael Bublé…” Max rubbed the back of her neck as Victoria gave a long, dramatic groan.

\--

Victoria found herself driving along the winding roads to the city, snowflakes kissing the windshield of her foreign at different intervals of intensity as the two girls sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Michael crooned in the background and Max would occasionally hum the lyrics with surprising pitch accuracy.

 _You’ve heard her sing before, it shouldn’t really surprise you that she has a good ear_.

Victoria Chase could not necessarily sing, but she had the ear training from all the piano lessons her parents forced her through as a young girl. She hardly played now, but if someone forced her to sit at a piano bench and plunk out a decent tune, she could do it.

“You can sing, you know. I’m not going to get like—mad or something. It’s nice to hear you sing.” She casually advised to her right as she focused on the winding, wet roads ahead.

Max adjusted herself in the passenger seat and set down her phone she had been casually scrolling through.

“We only have what? Five minutes of our ride left, so I say… let’s make the best of it,” Max reached for her iPod and scrolled through a list of songs.

Victoria adjusted her driving position to stretch her left leg and winced.

_Foreigns are nice, but they’re not made for any long-term driving. Perhaps I should have brought the Range Rover to Blackwell instead…_

Though, Victoria had to be the person on campus with the most expensive and beautiful car. So she begged her father, Michael Chase, to let her bring the 911 to campus. She never thought she’d drive it long distances too often. Now, she was slightly regretting her haughty insistence.

Max must have decided on a song as the music through the speakers were the usual holiday sound of bells.

_“Everybody out there been good out there or what? Oh, that’s not many, not many, you guys are in trouble out here! Come on.”_

Victoria scrunched her nose, “Bruce Springsteen? This is the big finale, Max?”

Vibrating merriment, Max turned in her seat to look at Victoria. Stealing a look over her driving arm, an instant smile nearly took over as Max looked giddy.

_She looks…so…herself. Happy._

The energy in the car did certainly pick up.

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find this song catchy?” Max protested, waggling a brow as Victoria stole side-glances her way.

Victoria failed miserably at suppressing her smile. “I take back what I said about letting you sing.”

Max whirled around to fully face Victoria in the car. She gave her a lopsided beaming smile as she burst out into song with Springsteen.

“He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice. He’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice. SAAAAANNNTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWNNNN!”

Victoria nearly drove into the other lane in surprise at the outburst. Max had somehow successfully harmonized well with Bruce Springsteen and managed to ruin the impressiveness of her singing by absolutely looking ridiculous and silly at the same time.

And Victoria fucking loved it.

_Jesus Christ._

“Are you giving me a free concert right now?” Victoria managed through a laugh.

Pulling into a busy parking lot of a mall that seemed to stretch on for eternity, she took the opportunity to give Max a wink at a four way stop. Max gave a bashful smile and hummed along while continuing her car ride performance until they parked the car in a spot.

Both girls exited, giggling and wading themselves into the gentle layer of snow in the parking lot. Max continued humming the chorus of the Christmas song all the way into the entrance of the busy mall.

It was bustling with pajama-clad and dressy people alike. It was interesting to observe. A few people wore silly matching pajama sets with their families and Santa Claus hats, some were dressed up in expensive clothing like Victoria. Many people carried around cups of coffee as they hustled around the groups of friends and families as they set out into the mall with their bags of Black Friday goodies. The energy was contagious.

“Jeeze, it’s busy,” Max breathed, slowing her pace.

Victoria felt her stomach flip.

_I don’t want her to get overwhelmed._

“If it gets to be too much for you, let me know and we can go, Max,” Victoria informed as nonchalantly as she could.

Victoria knew Max’s grandmother was supposed to be taken off life support at some time today and although neither girl had brought it up, the fact of her grandmother’s fate still hung over them both. Victoria wanted to make sure Max knew there was at least one person by her side when the time came, if Max wanted her there.

Max gave her a small smile. “Thanks, alright… but I think I’m okay. For now. Where to first?”

Walking up to a mall map, Victoria squinted and looked over the list of stores in the corner. Max came up beside her, a few inches shorter and tilted her head upward to look at Victoria as she scrutinized the mall map.

“How about we wing it? Walk around and see what looks interesting.” Max offered.

Victoria sat on the notion for a moment and decided that was their best route. Obviously, there wasn’t necessarily anything Victoria needed, but there were certainly things that she wanted.

_Not just material things._

“I guess that’s a course of action,” Victoria shrugged and turned as a large family came pushing up toward them and the map.

Then the idea hit her.

“Oh. We need to find you a blazer.”

“Oh, god. Not the _blazer_ thing.”

Victoria pulled her smile into a coy grin.

“Yeah, absolutely the blazer thing. Let’s go.”

They both wandered into an upscale boutique with shiny, white floors and a pretty blonde haired associate with beachy waves walked up to them and gave them a tired, yet charming smile. She looked like a young college student.

“Hi, ladies! Welcome to _Le Voe_ ,” she started. Her bright eyes landed on Victoria and she beamed. “Oh, I adore your ensemble. Is that Dior?”

Max scoffed, “When isn’t it Dior?”

The girl turned her head and took in the site of Max rather quickly. Victoria set her jaw, daring the girl to say something off about Max’s look. Luckily though, the girl gave Max a soft smile.

“I can see that you’re not in any Dior, but aren’t you _cute_. Your friend here seems to be very fashion fluent and you’re probably in exceptional hands, but hopefully I can still assist. What are we looking for today?”

_‘Cute?’_

“Uhhh, I don’t know. I normally get my stuff second hand, if I’m being honest. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a store with such fancy clothes.” Max gave the girl an apologetic frown and shrugged.

“That’s adorable! I love that, it’s very down-to-Earth of you. Between you and I, the world needs more people like that I think.” Clarice, her namebadge read, softened her beaming, greeting customer face and raised a brow, “Well, just so you know, you pull it off. I found a piece of vintage Valentino at a thrift store in Los Angeles once, so who knows what great things you’ll find in second hand stores?” The associate giggled and cupped her hands together. “Don’t tell my boss I said so. Anyway, my name is Clarice if you need anything. I’ll come check on you both after I make my rounds.”

Max pulled her face into a semi-forced smile and nodded as the girl drifted away among the pristine racks of expensive looking clothing.

_Well she’s… cute. And charming. And pretty. Does Max think she’s pretty?_

Catching herself amidst her ridiculous tangent of thoughts, she shook her head and scanned the store and its articles of clothing.

Victoria could identify a few promising designers on certain racks. Her expert eyes scanned the store, the racks, the options, looking for potential try-ons.

_What would be cute on Max?_

If Victoria was being honest, she was tremendously excited about the prospect of forcing Max Caulfield into some very expensive designer pieces. Pieces that would accentuate the nice shape of her figure and the bookish style she possessed was the goal. Victoria wasn’t going to force Max to change her established likes, just broaden them.

_I can expand on a few things with her wardrobe, that’s for sure._

Victoria walked about the store, Max trailing quietly and closely behind at her heel. This was not Max’s comfort zone. She looked wide-eyed and slightly overwhelmed. Max hadn’t even seen the price tags yet.

A velvet looking blazer caught her eye in the men’s section of the store and she quickly turned on her heels fast enough to give the following hipster whiplash. Pulling it off the rack, she turned and gave Max a coy smile.

“I think this might be something to try,” Victoria playfully rocked the blazer on its hanger off the tip of her finger. “Oh! And maybe a nice, small-print button-up to go underneath…do you own any dress slacks? Actually, don’t even answer that because I know the answer to my own dumb question,” she trailed off and wandered over to a rack of button-up shirts.

“The men’s section?” Max asked, uncertain. “Aren’t I too small for this section?” Max took a sad glance down at her legs and back up to Victoria’s confident, focused face.

“Max. There is such a size as a ‘men’s’ extra small, you know,” Victoria raised a brow and shoved the two hangers of clothes into Max’s klutzy hands. “Don’t even bother looking at the size numbers on the tags, they’ll confuse you as literally every designer fits differently.”

Max raised a confused, worried eyebrow. “Numbers? I mean I’m a women’s size zero or two. Like that?”

Victoria scoffed, “You are tiny, but that’s okay. It helps me here to know that though.”

“Okay, so no looking at the men’s sizes? How am I—,” Max began, the questions running through her mind, spilling onto her face.

Victoria cut her off, “And give me the benefit of the doubt here. I know you’ve never shopped in the men’s section before, but fashion isn’t just _women’s_ and _men’s_. I mean… I’ve got plenty of pieces that originated from the men’s sections.”

Max’s grimaced face lightened up, considering this. Max bit the corner of her lip and gave Victoria a more confident nod.

Victoria wanted Max to trust her instincts on this. If Victoria knew anything at all it was photography and fashion. She needed Max to trust her process.

Appearing out of thin air, Clarice the associate popped up at Max’s side. Taken off guard, Max made a moment of dropping the button-up awkwardly, she bent over quickly to retrieve it from the floor, her cheeks reddening. Clarice gave Max a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Going for the velvet, huh? It’s a nice choice for winter—super versatile. Nice find. That’d look so great on your frame. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name…?” The girl trailed off, obviously trying to get Max’s name. She flashed the flustered Max two rows of perfectly white, straight teeth.

Max looked between the shop girl and Victoria nervously.

“Oh, my name? Uh, it’s Max,” she offered sweetly.

Clarice tilted her head curiously and gave Max a long, interested look. Victoria knew that look well. A tiny, curious grin pulled onto the shop girl’s face.

“Max? I love that name for a female. Do your parents call you Maxine?”

Max fumbled the velvet jacket in her hands again. The girl was certainly throwing Max off even more. Victoria sighed. Max shifted her weight between her planted feet.

_Ugh, god Max._

“Yeah, actually… they do.” Max gave her a less frightened grin. “You’re a good guesser.”

The girl raised a brow, “That I am. Can I get you a fitting room, _Maxine_? I absolutely have to see you in this.”

Raising her brows behind her messy bangs, Max turned to check in with Victoria on this offer.

Victoria inhaled sharply, “ _Maxine_ will come fetch you when she’s ready to try everything on, thanks.”

Clarice blinked a few times, pursed her lips, before she retreated into the uppity retail employee act. A less genuine smile was given to Victoria’s nearly scowling face.

“Works for me if it works for _Maxine_ ,” Clarice challenged with a lowering of her brows.

_So she’s a shop girl that bites back? Okay then._

Max’s jaw slacked and she glanced between Clarice the shop girl and Victoria the fashionista as they glared tiny daggers at each other.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me, thank you so much for the help, Clarice.” Max gave her a warm, lopsided puppy-dog grin. She nearly effectively cut the tension with her soft, polite persona.

Jesus Christ.

Clarice’s face softened an obvious amount as she batted her dark eyelashes. The girl turned, gave Max a flashing smile before walking back behind the register to take care of other customers as she swayed her hips.

Victoria scoffed and turned to face Max, arms crossed.

“She’s hitting on you,” Victoria complained.

Or at least, her voice definitely came out as an obvious complaint. Max, finally turning away from Clarice’s departing sway, raised a confused eyebrow.

“No, she’s not. She’s doing her job, Victoria. Anyway, she’s like a ten. She’s absolutely _not_ hitting on _me_. I’m a solid four. Their job is to be nice to paying customers.”

Victoria rolled her eyes and waved her arm. “ _Whatever_ you say. And you’re obviously not a four at all. Wait… if you think you’re a four and you think _Clarice_ is a ten on this scale, what does that make me?” Victoria tried her best to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible, but Max seemed to bristle slightly.

Max rubbed the back of her neck, “Uh, well… _everyone_ knows you’re easily a ten, Victoria. I didn’t think that was a question you needed answering.”

Victoria scoffed and lowered a brow, “I know what everyone thinks, but I’m asking for Max Caulfield’s number. What do you think?” she pulled her face into a sly smile.

Max widened her eyes, “I’d have to agree with everyone else on the ten thing, yeah.”

_Good to know._

With Max’s nervous form, she waved her hand. “Let’s make another round and then go try these on.”

Sitting in a luxurious plush chair in the waiting area of the fitting rooms about twenty minutes later, she bounced her foot over her crossed leg. Max had been in there for ten minutes already. They didn’t see anything else they both agreed on in the boutique after the second lap. All Victoria gave Max were three items to try on and she was still taking this long.

A latch of a door was heard and Victoria snapped her head upward to see Max’s head sticking out of the room. Her face was screwed up into uneasiness.

“Victoria!” Max hissed.

“What?”

“We have to put these back right now.” Max nearly pleaded.

“Why would we do that?” Victoria asked, incredulous.

Max outwardly swallowed and grabbed at a fabric tag swaying below the underarm of the hidden blazer.

_I want to see this on her._

“ _Because_ this velvety jacket costs more than all of my camera equipment put together!” she whined.

Victoria shook her head and held up her finger. “Nuh-uh, no way, Max. You’re not going to convince me to not get you a few things. We talked about this. My dad said to use his card for Black Friday and that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Max bit her lip, Victoria sighed, “Will you just come out here already and show me the outfit before I get annoyed?”

Max looked both ways down the small hallway of changing rooms, probably checking for any curious strange eyes and inhaled deeply.

Throwing her head back, Victoria groaned in frustration.

“Oh, my god, Max. Just come _out_ already,” she grumbled.

“ _Fine_. Just remember, I don’t usually wear stuff like this, so it looks a little—different.” Max warned.

Victoria rolled her neck and nodded, waving her forward. Max stepped out of the changing room slowly, painstakingly, and her shoulders hovered up near her jaw. She was so tense.

_Oh._

_Oh?_

Other than looking a bit nervous and stiff, Max looked _good_. Not just the usual leather jacket looking kind of sad hipster good, but… _hot_.

Max and Victoria continued to look at one another from across the fitting room with intense glances. Max bit her lip, worried, a bit shy, and fiddled with some stray hairs near her face.

“You… look _hot_.”

_Fuck, Victoria, come on._

“I mean it—the _outfit_ looks—it looks hot. Do you feel good in it?” Victoria stumbled violently into the last question.

She mentally punched herself in the face for her word stumbling.

Max blushed gently and blinked a few times, her eyes light. Victoria exhaled, gathering herself while glancing over the fit of the clothes on the timid frame of her neighbor.

Max tilted her head to catch a glance of herself in the three-way mirror. While Max was preoccupied looking at the outfit, stiffly twisting left to right to view it, Victoria took the chance to fully drink in the dressed-up form of Max Caulfield.

She looked trendy, almost scholastically bred with a dash of the hipster charm of the velvet, form cut blazer. Victoria was certainly right on her being an extra small. It fit her nearly perfectly. If anything, the pants were the tiniest bit too long, but Max seemed to take care of the problem herself by rolling up the ends of the pants to showcase her black converse shoes.

_She’s got…a tiny, adorable butt? I’ve never noticed before._

Her eyes traveled up Max’s torso to the grey button up with tiny patterns. It broke up the solidness of the blazer. Max didn’t take too much time buttoning it correctly to the appropriate button height so Victoria gave a side frown, pulled herself up, and sauntered over to Max.

_If we’re doing this, we’re doing this right._

Max turned her head and gave Victoria a hesitant smile.

“I’ve never put on anything this fancy before,” she breathed, twisting her arms to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Victoria walked right up to Max and stood between Max and her reflection. She still had some height advantage on Caulfield. Maybe she’d use it to her advantage.

_Victoria…_

Lifting her arms elegantly, she did her best to appear casual as she rested both wrists on Max’s shoulders. Soft velvet of the blazer brushed against her skin and her arms erupted in goosebumps. Velvet did that to her sometimes.

Max looked up and squinted, her face a gentle inquiry.

“Do—do you actually think I look _hot_ in this?” Max nearly whispered.

Victoria felt her stomach take a dramatic leap into her throat. She swallowed.

“Doesn’t matter what I think, do you feel good in it?”

_Good one, dodging that question._

Max bit her lip, considering the inquiry. Her blue eyes appeared a piercing dark grey color because of the button up. Victoria could have stared at them for a minute or two if it wouldn’t make things weird. She didn’t and decided to look elsewhere.

Max seemed to figure out how she felt about the ensemble a long moment after Victoria asked.

“I never thought about trying clothes like this. I probably never would have tried to find anything in the men’s section, but… yeah, maybe it makes me feel a bit sophisticated. Like a more mysterious and cool version of myself. The upper-class hipster. I feel like I should be drinking that fizzy salt water you rich people like to drink.”

Victoria laughed as she gripped the back of the velvet collar, adjusting it for her. Her hands slowly moved toward the lapels and they hung there for what felt like fifty beats.

Max fidgeted under Victoria’s grasp.

“ _Well_ , let me fix this for you,” Victoria purred softly as her hands moved to the collar of the button up.

Her hands hovered near Max’s chest. Victoria could feel the warmth of Max’s skin. A few haphazard freckles danced on the hollow of her throat as she swallowed heavily. Ignoring the substantial hammering of her heart against her ribs, Victoria did the second button from the top of Max’s shirt.

“You’ve—um, you should button this all the way up, I think,” Victoria breathed. She realized how close they were standing to each other and if she were currently wearing heels, she figured her legs would be quivering in place.

_Why does she make me an idiot, nervous, mess?_

She silently—mentally patted herself on the back for choosing functionality over fashion and being reasonable and opting for her boots today.

Max’s cheeks flushed pink. “If you say so, I guess… I’ll just let you adjust me.”

Victoria squinted, “I am the expert after all.”

Gliding her hands up the few inches of Max’s chest, though she knew she probably shouldn’t do it the way she did, she landed on the top button. Feeling heat in her cheeks, she cleared her throat and squinted, attempting to look like she was doing this for the fashion, not for the proximity of their bodies.

“There,” Victoria announced as her finger swiftly buttoned the top of the shirt.

Reluctantly, Victoria knew there was no longer a reason for her hands to stay where they were, she dropped them awkwardly to her side.

Taking a step back to see the final product of her work, Victoria felt a warmth spread along her face.

_Max does look really good. Why is she so stupidly cute?_

Raising a dark eyebrow behind bangs again, Max pulled her lips into a probing grin.

“Why are you grinning like that? Are you proud of being good at fashion?”

Victoria tilted her chin downward, a thoughtful answer bouncing through her mind.

“Amongst other things…” she trailed off with a coy sigh.

“How is that outfit coming along—oh!” Clarice breezed into the changing rooms and halted at the doorway.

The blonde beauty boutique girl—or whatever stood there looking Max over more than once rather quickly. Her well contoured face brightened and her dark colored eyes flashed. She tucked a loose curl behind an ear adorned with piercings.

_Hmm. My suspicions have been proven correct. She’s into Max._

“Maxine, that looks ravishing on you. Well,” the girl paused and approached the once-again nervous Max. “I guess you make this look ravishing.”

_Ravishing? Fucking really?_

Before even thinking over what she was doing, Victoria stepped closer to Max again, into her personal space and set her hand on Max’s bicep gently.

“She does look exceptionally and surprisingly fantastic in this, doesn’t she?”

Victoria turned her head to glare at the shop girl. Her glare didn’t necessarily match the tone of her voice, but Victoria wanted the shop girl to know that Victoria was not a threat to be ignored.

Clarice’s manicured brows knit together, perplexed. “Are you guys like— _together_?” Clarice raised a singular, challenging brow at Victoria.

Max and Victoria, eyes huge like saucers, both instantly pale, looked at each other and then back to Clarice’s arm-crossed form.

“No, we’re not tog—,”

“ _Yeah_ , we’re tog—,”

Max snapped her neck around to stare at Victoria after hearing her reply. Victoria felt her cheeks get hot and her socialite act began to break through.

“We’re not like together ‘together’. Just together… _shopping_. It would be super helpful if you went out and got us an extra small in the navy velvet blazer please.”

Victoria had no intentions of buying a navy-blue velvet blazer.

Clarice pulled her red lips into a thin line and raised both brows.

“Mhmm… okay. I want you to know, you look smoking in that Maxine, so I suggest you buy the black.” Clarice walked up closer to the two girls and frowned. “But don’t button the shirt all the way up like that.”

Max’s worried, anxious grey looking eyes flickered from Clarice to Victoria as the shop girl walked up into their space. Victoria let a tiny exasperated huff escape her throat.

“Oh, Victoria said—,” Max began, but was quickly silenced as Clarice reached out to unbutton the top.

_Seriously, “Clarice”?_

Victoria stood there, nearly shaking in frustration, as she watched Clarice give Max an obvious, self-satisfying checking out of Max in the outfit while her hands hung around too long at Max’s throat near the collar of the shirt.

_You just did the same bullshit. Relax. Anyway, she’s just a shop girl doing her job, trying to get the sale._

Upon seeing Max’s pale, starry gaze and Clarice’s tiny lip bite and small smile, Victoria realized that _Clarice_ was trying to get more than just the _sale_.

The three stood in a weird, awkward silence as Clarice finished her slow, unneeded adjustments on Max’s outfit.

“There. Perfect. So what do you do, Maxine? Are you into artsy stuff? You have that artsy thing going on,” Clarice asked, more than just curious.

Max opened her mouth, thought for a second, closed her mouth, swallowed and opened it again, slightly more composed.

Victoria simply stepped back and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t take another second staring at the two. Her hands were doing a weird shaking thing that they had never really done before and she had to turn away to save face.

“Just ask for her _number_ already,” Victoria huffed heatedly, stomping off to the sales floor. She couldn't even be sure as to who she was talking to.

Finding a plush armchair to sit in while Max and Clarice finished up _whatever the fuck_ they were doing, she found her legs buzzing and bouncing—switching positions every half a minute or so. Her stomach twisted in and out of irritated knots as she glared at shoppers from her position.

_‘Oh, you look ravishing, Maxine. Can I take you on a little hipster date, Maxine? Can you eye-fuck me from across the sales floor as I run around smiling looking pretty? Oh, Maxine, don’t button it up like that! Let me put my hands all over you in front of the girl you came with.’_

Victoria crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, sinking lower into the chair.

Weirdly, suddenly, a thought hit her.

_You’re Victoria fucking Chase. Who is she? A shop girl? She doesn’t know anything about Max at all. I do. I know Max._

Then her face relaxed as another, completely different thought popped into her head.

_You’re not even ‘with’ Max. Leave it the fuck alone, Victoria. You haven’t been exactly clear about any types of feelings you have about Max at all. So what if a gorgeous looking girl seems interested? You have no claim over Max Caulfield. Pull your shit together._

Her foot halted its nervous bouncing.

_Why do I even care?_

Hearing a bell-like feminine laugh waft from the dressing rooms, Victoria glowered as Clarice stepped out with Max. Max was back in her casual wear, looking out of place in the boutique once again. The two girls were engaged in conversation, Clarice beamed at Max and tucked her hair behind her ear again while looking at Max through those long, dangerous eyelashes.

It took nearly every muscle in Victoria’s face to restrain her eye roll.

Max looked away as Clarice excitedly and animatedly chatted her up. Victoria’s eyes caught Max’s and her gentle, polite looking smile lit up upon seeing the brooding Victoria. She seemed entirely happy to see her off moping in the plush, black arm chair.

_Like she’s relieved to see me._

Clarice grabbed Max’s hand then, pulling her attention away from Victoria. The shop girl reached into her back pocket and pulled out a marker, gave Max a sly, twinkling grin, and pulled the cap off with her perfect teeth.

_Oh, come on._

Victoria watched Max visibly tense up, her hand locked in Clarice’s palm. The shop girl laughed again at something Max must have said to her and she began scribbling something on the inner palm of Max’s captured hand.

This time, Victoria could not control her colossal eye roll. She probably could have caught a glimpse of her brain if she did it a fraction harder.

Pulling her lip into a straight, serious line, she considered something.

_She’s damned good. And ballsy._

Clarice shot a look over to Victoria then, her eyes sparkling like she had just beat Victoria in a hand of cards.

_So that’s what this is. Okay, two can play at this game._

Victoria clicked her tongue in disbelief, pulling herself up out of her sunken position in the posh chair, she smoothed her blouse and lifted her chin just so. She had done this hundreds of times and Clarice was about to learn something today in the art of flirting finesse.

_I’m Victoria fucking Chase._

Sauntering coolly up to the two girls, Victoria put on her best, iciest face. Reaching into her designer bag, she pulled out her wallet and her father’s metal, shiny platinum credit card. Standing a distance away from them, she held out the card with two disinterested fingers.

“ _Clarie_ , if you could please ring up _Maxine’s_ things, that’d be lovely.”

Clarice looked taken aback as she took the credit card into her hands, as did Max.

Victoria then made a point to stroll up to Max. She set her hand on Max’s shoulder and gave her a smile before gently moving a few rogue hair strands out of Max’s eyes with soft fingers. Max’s eyes widened as Victoria turned back around to face Clarice the shop girl. She left her firm grip on Max’s shoulder for point.

“I’d suggest paying just as good attention to your other guests here. I mean, you’re wearing,” Victoria narrowed her eyes, looking the sales associate up and down, “is that from the _2009_ Michael Kors collection? Surely, the other commissions just waiting for your help around the store will help you get out of _that_ ensemble.”

Clarice stood there, stunned. She opened her mouth, eyes wide, partially wounded. Her dark eyes bounced between the closeness of the two girls. Max looked at Victoria, mouth agape.

“Then again, you probably barely make above minimum wage, so I wouldn’t expect you in anything less,” Victoria added.

Max gasped, horrified. “Victoria…”

Clarice narrowed her eyes, looked at Max and deflated.

“Yeah… sure. I’ll—go ring these out for you,” Clarice mumbled, the fight for Max’s attention now a done thing.

Clarice thankfully dispersed leaving Max and Victoria in a tight, awkward staring contest. Victoria dropped her grip of Max’s shoulder and rested her hand on her hip.

_Victoria…that was wrong._

Max closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

“That—that was really mean.”

Feeling overly and completely defensive, Victoria scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. She rolled her eyes and caught Max’s face.

“She was all _over_ you. It’s fucking 8:03 in the _morning_. I mean, could you have any less class than that?” Victoria’s voice was rough.

Max gave Victoria a long, drawn out look of disapproval before shaking her head slowly.

“Why— _why_ are you being like this, she was just being _nice_.” Max stammered, voice soft.

Victoria felt like Max had just given her an upper-cut to the gut. Her face was doused in condemnation and she was certainly more closed off than when she originally had walked into the store with Victoria.

Scoffing icily, she replied, “Are you sure she didn’t offer to help you undress? With the way things were looking in there…” Victoria raised a brow and gave Max a cool smirk.

Max blinked slowly and frowned heavily. She tucked her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugged.

“Okay, so maybe she got a bit too personal, but _why_ are you acting like this?”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Max’s face turned a telling pink color and she stuttered, “I mean—I don’t know why—well, I mean, I guess she _did_. It’s not like it means anything. You’re acting like a jealous girlfriend. You’ve been cold to her ever since we walked in here.”

_A…jealous…girlfriend?_

Victoria’s icy face fell completely, eyes wide.

_Well, fuck._

Closing her eyes, attempting to gather any last shattered bits of face, she inhaled slowly.

_Get it together._

“You’re—okay, yeah, I’m _sorry_. Fuck. I—Oh, shit. I don’t know why I acted like—,”

Max face got harsh, “are you _sure_ you don’t know _why_ you acted that way?”

Victoria physically had to take a step back away from Max to solidify herself.

_Oh, god._

“You just need to always be nice to retail workers. My parents made it a point,” Max huffed. She softened her face, dejectedly gazing at Victoria, shoulders slumped.

Victoria couldn’t say a single thing.

Luckily, or unluckily, Victoria couldn’t decide, Clarice sheepishly appeared again, holding a shiny shopping bag of their items.

Clarice looked to Max and gave a gentle frown.

“Hey, I’m really, _really_ sorry. I—I just got out of a relationship with my ex-girlfriend and it was super shitty and I didn’t even think—I didn’t realize you guys had a thing.” Clarice held out the bag to Max, a weak frown on her face, “I didn’t mean to make you nervous, Max. You’re just—you’re just too sweet to ignore. I’m sure your friend knows all about that. Anyway, uhm, have a good morning.”

Clarice looked over at Victoria and gave her an honest, apologetic frown.

“It’s 2010 Michael Kors, by the way. And… I really do like your outfit. Take care.”

With a simple limp wave, Clarice was gone again.

_Goddamit._

Victoria couldn’t tell if the girl was really that good and swung the whole scenario on her like that, or if she was genuinely that kind of a person for apologizing to them in that way. However it spun, it wasn’t a good look for Victoria at all.

Leaving the store, Max and Victoria walked through another section of the mall, mostly quiet and tense.

As the two browsed another random store, nothing really catching either of their eyes, but letting the uninspired browsing fill up the empty space, they wound up on opposite sides of the shop. Here and there Max and Victoria would look up from pretending to browse clothing and make eye contact. As soon as they caught each other looking, they actively hid themselves again into a rack of hangers and clothes.

Finding nothing this time, they both met at the front of the store, an icy space between them.

Max sighed and turned to Victoria.

“Were you… were you actually bothered by her—flirting with me?” Max asked in a gentle, cautious voice.

It seemed as though Max had been pondering on asking the question the entire time they fake-browsed the racks.

Victoria felt her heart hammering loudly in her ear drum.

_The truth or… not the truth? What’s it going to be, Victoria?_

Victoria licked her lips and raised her shoulders into a frozen eternity of a shrug.

“I—I don’t know,” Victoria breathed out, finally.

This answer didn’t seem to satisfy Max at all, she sighed, seemingly exhausted and turned away.

Victoria stepped forward, reaching out for Max’s retreating form. Grasping onto the tips of her fingers, Victoria gave a light tug.

“Max! Please… Fuck, okay wait. I’m—I’m honestly, completely sorry for being such a dick back there. Okay? I’m _sorry_.”

Max froze, her back still to Victoria. Her head tilted and she spoke over her shoulder delicately.

“You don’t have to act like that, you know? I’m—I’m not necessarily interested in Clarice. I came here with you, didn’t I? I was woken up at the butt-crack of dawn by _you_ , right? I came here to be with _you_ , yeah?” Max turned around so slowly that it ached Victoria.

Looking down at Max’s hand, the shop girl’s phone number seemed to mock the hand she desperately grabbed onto.

_Max should make her own choices on who she is interested in. You don’t even have a plan! You don’t even know if you want any of this to go any further than what it already has._

Except she did. She did want this to go a little further than what it already had.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m so fucking insecure. It’s absurd.”

Max gave her a melancholic frown, “You don’t have to be, Victoria. I’m right here with you.”

Victoria mirrored Max’s face and rubbed her thumb along the inner palm of Max’s hand, swiping it over the inked phone number.

_219.886.7773_

“You can call her, you know? If you wanted to. Don’t let what I did change any of your feelings about this. I mean, that’s pretty impressive that you managed to get _that_ girl’s phone number. I’m not into feminine blondes, not my type, but maybe it’s yours.”

Max shrugged a singular shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe I’m not into that particular blonde girl. Come on, let’s get a coffee and a bagel or something because my energy is completely gone.”

_That particular blonde girl? Does she mean… does she mean me?_

Victoria’s stomach twisted and it felt like a hundred, fluttering butterflies were begging for release.

“That sounds…actually, really nice.”

* * *

 

_**{MAX}** _

**FRIDAY; Morning**

 

Victoria had been a little weird ever since the first store. One minute she’d do something sweet and gentle like grabbing her hand in the middle of the mall to rub her thumb along her palm and the next, she’d be quiet, hard-faced, lost in her own head.

The two sat at a tiny café table near a bakery in the food court and they munched slowly on pastries and sipped cappuccinos. A heavy silence took up more space than any conversations had and it made Max nervous.

_Clarice made me nervous. Victoria makes me nervous. Chloe made me nervous._

Attractive women made Max Caulfield nervous. It was an undeniable fact.

Max didn’t know if she ever made Victoria nervous with the things she did. If Max ever made her feel nervous, Victoria was damned good at hiding it. Victoria was put together. Max—not so much.

“Max?” Victoria looked up from her half-eaten cherry pastry.

Max swallowed her food and arched a brow. “Yes?”

“Do you—do you like being friends with me?” Victoria asked softly, her shoulders rounding as she leaned over the pastry.

Max didn’t really know what they were exactly, but it was kind of nice hearing Victoria call them friends. Before, she did her best to avoid admitting such a thing.

Setting her cheese pastry on a brown napkin, she pondered.

_Will Victoria still want to be my friend when everyone else comes back to Blackwell? Will she still want to be seen with me? Or will this whole friendship come crashing down the minute the Vortex Club hounds their influence on her once again?_

“Yeah, but I have to ask,” Max’s cheeks grew hot and Victoria was watching her so closely that it felt like every single twitch her face made Victoria needed to analyze. “What happens when…you know, everyone comes back?”

Victoria’s face fell, like she was hoping that Max wouldn’t ask that particular question. Her lips pulled into a tight line.

“I’m not going to let them bother you.”

“Bother me?”

“Yes. The shitty comments, the attitudes. I like it when you’re around and they’re going to have to deal with it.” Victoria set her face—serious, steeled.

Max inhaled, “You don’t have to—hang out with them if you don’t want to, you know.”

Victoria groaned and leaned back in her chair, people whirled by around them, but it felt as if they were the only two in the tiny corner café in the busy mall. Victoria Chase now appeared very small, like a regular teenager with problems she couldn’t find solutions for.

“I know. Thing is, most of them aren’t half bad, really. Like Dana for example, you know her. Taylor is one of my best friends actually. Not everyone can have a little Max Caulfield follow them around and give them nice lessons. I’d consider myself lucky.”

Max blinked, “Lucky?”

Victoria looking sheepish, shifted in her chair. “Yes. I feel lucky that we got to know each other better. Set aside our egos and we get along fine.”

Max felt a twist in her stomach. Max had told Victoria something eerily similar back during the week with her rewind powers.

_Huh._

Victoria cleared her throat and pointed her chin, “Besides, somebody is going to have to keep an eye on you when school starts back up, you know. We’re not letting your grades get any worse.”

Max scrunched her face up playfully. “Let me guess, I can’t leave you with all these amateurs?”

Her green eyes twinkled and her mouth curved upward.

“Absolutely not, Caulfield. I’d never forgive you for it.”

Max smiled back and took a happier bite of her pastry. Victoria grinned back and sipped her cappuccino as her eyes stayed focused on Max. The green eyes still held their twinkle with the tiniest dash of mischievousness.

“Oh, I have an idea. You got to put me in something, now I get to put you in something,” Max whispered over her cheese pastry.

Victoria flushed pink then and lowered her steaming drink.

“Oh, god. What do you mean by that?”

Max chewed her pastry and gave the tiniest of coy grins. “We’re getting you a pair of _normal_ people shoes. Shoes of the people.”

Victoria raised a smooth brow. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that, Caulfield.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,
> 
> So we're coming up to the end! Can't you feel everything building up? The calm before the storm, huh? 
> 
> I'll probably post the last chapter within the next 7-10 days. 
> 
> I've been fiddling around with the idea of this being a series as I've done a good amount of back history here with Strange Love and I think it might be fun for all of us to continue and see where the girls take us.
> 
> If a series of this post-storm universe would interest you, please let me know below in the comments and I will seriously consider writing more of Max/Vic. Even drop me a smiley face if you get too anxious to leave comments, anything to let me know.
> 
> Take care & Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).


	10. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that all they do is drive, sit in silence waiting for a sign. Sick and full of pride, all they do is drive.
> 
> Max knows she must make a time-altering choice on her relationship with Victoria and making choices are never an easy thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> LAST CHAPTER! 
> 
> So first off, it's so wild to realize that I've written a novel length story here in four months? Second off, THANK YOU. I'm so glad you got to travel with me on this journey. I'll think about all of you reading along and feeling things, experiencing reactions and thoughts about this story, pondering it or carrying it with you, (even for an hour or a day) and it is wonderful. Strange Love was started out of a curiosity about two polar opposites that couldn't be more similar. We have the wise, soft, teacher Max and the layered, learning, and reliable Victoria. I hope this experience with me was enjoyable.
> 
> If you're still reading these notes, thank you! If you want to add to your experience in reading this long chapter here, (I spoiled all of you on the length of this one, ha), I feel the essence of this scene is expressed really well on Halsey's song "DRIVE". (Given chapter title). It'd be cool to take a listen, jam to the tune, and then begin reading. 
> 
> **If you would like to listen, click[HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atQtIBEOavs).** (It's a youtube link, promise).
> 
> TW: PTSD, language, the usual stuff.
> 
> Again, thank you and I feel very happy-sad about this particular story being over. I started it when I was in a rough place and Max and Victoria made things a little easier to handle... the whole spending time with them.
> 
> As this is the end of Strange Love, thank you for continuing to comment, kudos, and spread the word of the story. I'd absolutely love it if you could tell me your favorite part, quote, or scene. What my audience likes, I want to know for the future of the series. ;)
> 
> HAPPY READING! SEE YOU IN THE END NOTES!

**CHAPTER 10:** **DRIVE**

_**{VICTORIA}** _

Near the end of the Black Friday shopping trip, Max had become energetically deflated. Victoria could tell. Her blue eyes grew dim as each hour passed and she consistently kept checking the time on her phone, as if she was waiting for something.

Thing was, Max was waiting for something. Or someone.

Today was the day Max’s grandmother would be taken off her life support back in Chicago. The shopping trip had merely been a tiny distraction. As the time neared 3:30 in the afternoon, Victoria suggested they return to Blackwell. Max thankfully agreed, cheeks flushed as she locked her phone screen for the hundredth time.

_“They were supposed to call early afternoon, I don’t know if something went wrong…”_

The two were about an hour into their drive back, nothing around but snow flurries and bleak mid-day sun brushing the tops of tall trees that wound around the deserted roads. Victoria wore her sunglasses again, staring and focusing on the road out ahead of her.

Max sat in the passenger seat, every few minutes taking a break from staring out the window to go checking through her messages. The high-strung energy was nearly contagious. Victoria could feel it beating off Max from beside her.

Gentle acoustic tunes wafted from the stereo and both girls stayed mostly silent during the drive. Victoria would take opportunities to look over and steal glances at Max’s worried, twisted up face.

_I wish there was something more I could do…_

All Victoria really wanted to do was give Max a little more comfort.

_Should I like… grab her hand? Is that okay to do?_

Checking the clear road ahead, Victoria stole a glance down at Max’s tense hand on the center console. Max was gripping it tightly, almost like she had done to the sink when Victoria had seen her in the bathroom that one early morning. Only this time, luckily, Max’s eye wasn’t injured any longer with a swollen bruise. The tiniest of a fading scar remained there now, probably due to Victoria’s diligence on the wound not scarring if she cared for it right away.

Catching a small glimpse of the smudged line of a number in marker on the edge of her palm, Victoria felt herself tense up.

_Come on, Max deserves better than someone like me who has no idea how to comfort others. Like “here’s a pat on the back” “I’m sorry your grandma is dying today”? Does she deserve someone like Clarice who probably is a bit more sensitive and less selfish. I mean, look at Max._

And Victoria did.

Max began chewing on a hanging nail on her thumb, her skin looked white and her cheeks were flushed. It looked like she hadn’t taken a single restful breath since coffee earlier.

_Maybe the quiet isn’t such a great thing for her right now._

Victoria cleared her throat and pointed her chin.

“I’m glad you decided to come. Even with everything being hard for you right now, you still came.”

Max paused her fidgeting and turned her torso to glance at Victoria.

“You promised fun,” Max responded, hard to read.

“I did,” Victoria sighed. “I’m sorry. Shopping probably isn’t really your thing, I gathered.”

Scoffing, she scooted lower into the passenger seat.

“It’s not. To be honest, I didn’t mind too much. I got a new outfit, randomly got a girl’s number, and got to pick out shoes for the Queen Bee of Blackwell Academy. Overall, not the worst day of my life.”

If Victoria couldn’t decipher Max’s mood before, she certainly couldn’t place it now.

Victoria inhaled deeply, “You should send her a text. Maybe you’d both hit it off and can bond over shit like _Doctor Who_ and imported cookies or whatever you hipsters like.”

Max turned her head and gave a stiff smile. “And that would be totally fine with you? Me texting the shop girl?”

Feeling her stomach flip but doing her very best to keep a solid face, Victoria shrugged her shoulders casually.

“I’m not your keeper. I think you should do whatever you want.” Victoria gave a sad, soft smile behind sunglasses. “Besides, I think you’d feel like you’re being rude if you didn’t at least send her a text.”

Max sheepishly winced, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Got me on that one.” Max huffed, seemingly to gather courage and she opened up her palm. She typed in the number into her phone and tapped out a brief message. Whatever the message said, Victoria couldn’t see.

_Besides, it’s not your business what the text said anyway._

For some ridiculous reason, Victoria’s stomach was doing wiggling twists in the base of her abdomen. She didn’t like it, but she was doing her best.

Victoria and Max continued in silence for another few minutes, gentle guitar playing at the base of all their thoughts that raced through their heads. Snowflakes kissed the windshield at different variants of speed as Victoria drove onward.

_Well, break is almost over and then we’ll be back in the real world. What even is the real world?_

Sneaking another look over at Max, she sighed. Max must have felt Victoria’s eyes for she turned and gave her a tiny, downcast pull of the lip. Something between a smile and an exhausted frown.

“I’m sorry you keep having to see me at these awful times.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because you didn’t sign up for any of this.”

“Maybe not, but I surprisingly understand that you’re a human, Caulfield.”

Max frowned heavily and glanced back out the passenger window. Trees breezed by in blurs.

_Oh…_

“Max,” Victoria began, sighing. “You don’t have to apologize to me for being a human being. I needed a little bit of human emotion thrust into my life. And I know what you’re thinking.”

Straightening up a bit, Max turned. “You _do_? And what am I thinking?” Her eyes were narrowed into curious slits.

“You’re worried that I see you as a broken thing.”

Max’s head cocked and Victoria could feel her blue eyes burning into the side of her face. Fixating on the road ahead, Victoria swallowed. She wrung her hands on the steering wheel feeling the waves of anxiousness from Max rush over her.

“So you do see me as a broken thing?” Max nearly whispered.

Victoria bit her bottom lip in thought. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to a girl vibrating with emotions.

“We’re all—a little broken. I don’t blame you or think less of you for carrying burdens around with you. God knows I have plenty. Your burdens happen to be a little heavier than the average teenager. I just—I just don’t want to make any of them heavier when I’m around.”

_And what happens when Max needs someone when school returns. Is it going to be you? Are you going to be the one she runs to in the middle of the night? And what about when your nightmares come crawling up, do you really want to let Max in on all of that too? Is that fair?_

Max pulled her attention away from the traveling trees outside her window.

“Actually, you make them feel a lot lighter…less…terrifying.”

Victoria let a small gasp slip from her parted lips and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Max took notice of this and raised a heavy brow.

“Max,” Victoria started, lowering her hand away. “You asked me what will happen once everyone comes back to Blackwell. I’ve been thinking and _thinking_ trying to find an answer to that question. I—I don’t know if I have an answer just yet. And I’m sorry.”

Max scoffed coldly and turned away back to the window. “I’ve probably never been so confused in my whole life.”

Victoria hummed and nodded at the sentiment. “That we can whole heartedly agree on.”

Pulling up to a four way stop, Victoria slowed the vehicle, feeling the bitter ache in the atmosphere of the vehicle.

_Look at her. Say something better than that._

Max sniffled a bit and tucked a messy chunk of brown hair behind a small ear.

Victoria felt her chest begin to ache. It was strange, like she could feel Max closing off from her. Like Max was made of strings of silk slipping through Victoria’s fingers, something she so desperately wanted to hold onto.

If you stay silent, she could shut off on you.

“Oh, fuck,” Victoria mumbled, pulling the car into park.

Max turned confused and carefully observed Victoria as she pulled off her sunglasses and elegantly folded them into their drop-down compartment.

Victoria inhaled deeply, held her breath for a moment, and exhaled. Though she was sitting, her legs felt quaky and her mouth was dry.

“Are you allowed to just put the car in park at a stop sign like this?” Max asked.

“Caulfield, relax. There’s nobody else even out here on the roads.”

“If you say so,” Max shrugged, lowering her eyes.

“Listen. I don’t know what happens when everyone else comes back. I do know something. I know,” Victoria sighed and gripped her knees for support.

“—What do you know, Victoria? _Hmm_? Because I don’t think either of us have any idea—,” Max began.

Victoria cut her off, “—I _know_ that you’re brave, kind, mysterious…A bit quirky. I know you never finish your beverages. I know that you can take a damned good shot on a film camera or on digital. I know that you put literally everyone else before yourself. I know that you can’t help but be a bit nosey, and that’s okay. Nobody sees the world the way you do. Nobody can even come close.”

Max’s eyes went from suspicious to soft then. Victoria felt tense, worried—like Max was on this tightrope and all Victoria wanted was for Max to reach her on the other side.

_Just be honest for once._

“Max, I don’t know what happens when school starts. What I do know is that I—without question—like who I am when I’m with you.”

Gripping the gear shift like it was a lifeline, Victoria held her breath. Acoustic guitars played between them and Victoria swallowed, realizing she’d have to speak again.

“Everyone at school sees me as this expensive, lofty piece of ass. They see me as someone to befriend for the best parties or the perks. Someone to know to help them get to somewhere. Like I’m a stepping stone for their popularity or their art. Someone to fuck for the credit of doing it with Victoria _Chase_. But you Max? You don’t give a fuck. I mean, you really don’t give a fuck that I carry around metal platinum cards or have the best car on campus. You don’t talk to me for the perks. You don’t spend time with me for the social credit.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then why? Why choose to be here with me right now?” Gaining sudden confidence, she turned her head and caught Max’s eye.

Max’s face blushed pink and she ceased the picking at her thumbnail. Max’s eyes drifted out the window, face contorted into deep thought.

“Oh… well.” Turning her head back around, a tiny lopsided grin rested on her face. “I guess, I like the Victoria I finally got to meet.”

_That’s…Oh, god. Why is she so… so Max like?_

Victoria felt her cheeks flush a deep warmth and she diverted her eyes. Max’s eyes were gentle and all-knowing. She didn’t know how long she could peer into those blue eyes and keep her composure.

“You’re beginning to see right through it all, Max.” Victoria sadly smiled.

Max gave a half shrug and reached out and rested her hand gently on Victoria’s arm.

“Maybe not all of it, but I think I’m starting to understand.” Max licked her dry, wintery lips and continued, “You’re not so bad you know? I know you think you’re this monster; You can outwardly care about things and people. Nobody can take those things away from you. Even when they’re gone by nobody’s fault in particular. Like for me, no one can take the away how I see the world. Nobody can take away my memories of Chloe. Those are mine.”

Max sighed, as if she was readying herself to reveal too much, “So many awful things have happened in such a short amount of time—I’m not always sure where to go next. It’s like I’m viewing the world from an alternate universe or from upside down. Victoria…I’ve made so many decisions to get here. I’m not sure if every single one of them was the ‘ _right_ ’ choice or the ‘ _best_ ’ choice, but they were mine. I’ve been really scared of making any timeline altering decisions lately— _err_ big decisions, I guess I should say. I guess—everything happens for a reason. I’m here right now…for a reason.”

The quiet rang through both of their eardrums. A moment where snowflakes froze and the world mercifully gave a sweet moment of collection for two souls wondering the same thing.

Removing her hand slowly from the gear shift, shaking as gently as spring leaves in a breeze, Victoria placed it on top of Max’s hand on her arm. It felt warm and comforting. Like a place to belong.

The shaking continued.

“And right now, me _here_? Is this all happening for a reason?” Victoria inquired, feeling a bit solidified with Max’s hand beneath hers.

Max looked up into Victoria’s eyes then. A deep wondering blue set into an emerald, anxious green. Licking her lips again thoughtfully, Max gave a curious smile. The tensions that swirled around the vehicle previously dissolved as another type of tension took its place.

“I hope so.”

A moment of breath caught in Victoria’s throat. Her eyelashes fluttered due to a tickling in her dry eyes. Beating furiously, her heart leapt to her windpipe and she wondered if she’d suffocate.

_Max..._

Her eyes danced along particular features of Max’s being. Features she admired. They landed happily on the tiny curve of her upper lip, they raced along the dots of freckles across her nose; settled into the dip of where her pointed jaw met her throat. Victoria swallowed heavily, desperate.

It had only been a second.

It felt like ages and within that time Victoria discovered she wanted to be a part of every single feature of Max. To know the number of freckles on her left cheek. To trace her bare hand up her spine on a warm morning. To feel Max’s tender hand through her hair and gripping at the back of her neck.

It killed her.

Max blinked and her eyes grew a twinkling, one that hadn’t been there since their drive to the mall earlier in the morning. Victoria watched the watercolor brushing of pink spread from beneath her aquatic eyes to the corners of her high cheekbones. Her lips looked weary and worn, but stayed tucked into her right cheek, a faulty attempt at suppressing a toothy grin.

She looked so _now_ , so _light_.

 _She’s…otherworldly._ And Victoria realized she had never thought of another human being as otherworldly before.

Max’s eyelashes grew heavier and she tilted her chin to observe Victoria.

_This—this is what poetry is about?_

Face scrunching inward at the weirdest moment of understanding she ever had, Victoria released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“What is it?” Softly, Max inquired.

“Nothing. I’m—just getting lost in my head.”

Victoria gave Max a warm smile and turned her attention back ahead of her. She reached down and pulled the vehicle into drive and continued down the road. A soft sadness hit her when Max pulled her hand away.

Snowflakes were falling in front of the headlights and their shadows were dancing projections ahead. Fog crept into the corners of the windshield. A slow, harmonized pair of voices crooned above the soft tapping notes of acoustic guitars.

Victoria snuck a glance as Max parted her pink lips, licked them and they twitched into a gentle grin when Max caught her looking. Max reached back over and placed a reassuring grip on Victoria's arm and her heart quickened again at the thought of it being there. She didn’t want Max to pull away. Not at all.

_Is that selfish?_

She didn’t know.

“Victoria? Can I—can I—,”

Max and she flinched at the loud ‘ _brring_!’ that erupted through the vehicle. Max’s once soft face filled up to the brim with panic, worry, distraught. A cruel reminder of the entire real world outside of the expensive sports car.

Victoria felt her heart sink when she felt the pressure of Max’s hand pull away for the second time.

_What was she going to ask?_

Sighing and throwing her head back against the headrest, she watched as Max apprehensively looked at the text sent to her. Her eyes went back to the road as she let Max have a private moment.

“Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, _god_.” Max whispered aloud scrolling down her phone screen.

Victoria caught the pitch change in Max’s voice. Her own heart beat switched gears and began racing in worry of Max.

_It has to be from her parents._

“It’s—it’s _happening_.” Max whipped her head toward Victoria. Her eyes were panicked, searching for a lifeline of sorts.

Victoria hovered her foot over the brake and peeked at Max’s face.

Victoria watched as Max’s eyes seemed to cloud over, like she was seeing something completely different. The girl’s breathing kicked up a notch and she gripped at the sleeves of the leather jacket hard enough to make noise as her nails dug into it.

“Max, _Max_. Listen—this is really scary, I know. What do you want me to do?”

Victoria, frankly, had no clue what to do. So she kept driving. Maybe getting her back to Blackwell as soon as possible was the best choice.

Max whirled her head around to look Victoria in the face. She was far away again, but her eyes flashed of recognition, like Max was trying to pull herself through whatever her body was forcing her to do.

“Victoria.” Her face took another journey, “ _Victoria_?”

Max’s face change was worrisome so Victoria reached out with her right hand and grabbed Max by her shoulder. Max’s eyes fogged over again before beginning to water.

_Do something! It’s not working._

Pulling her hand up to the dip of Max's neck, Victoria cradled Max’s jaw in her free hand, holding her head. Max's chest heaved up and down in dangerous intervals. She anxiously searched Max’s face, trying to absorb and understand whatever was happening now. Max began to fidget and squirm as her cries grew in despair.

Max pulled away out of Victoria’s gentle grasp and turned quickly to face the door.

“Max?”

Victoria’s body reacted faster than what her brain could process. She hit the brakes to slow the vehicle back down and before Victoria could throw the child-lock on, Max’s hand was already opening the door handle.

“I—I’m sor—,” Max wheezed as she made a treacherous scramble from the low riding vehicle.

“ _WHAT THE FUCK! MAX!?_ ”

Landing with a soft thud into the snowy road, Max groaned and her breathing got more reckless. Victoria slammed the brakes as safely as she could in the wet road and the car protested slightly and wriggled to the edge of the shoulder. The door open notification ding rang through the car as Max clambered to her feet and made down the road ahead. Small foot prints formed as she took off into the headlight beams at the front of the stopped car.

“Oh, my _god_! Max!” Victoria cried as she watched her fleeing form.

_If I was going the actual speed limit she could have died! If I wasn’t going 15 miles per hour, she could have died!_

Victoria felt her eyes grow extremely dry and she knew that could mean only one thing: they were readying themselves to weep.

“ _Fuck_ , what is going on?” Victoria breathed, frozen in shock.

She roughly pulled the vehicle into park.

_Do I go after her? Do I call for help?_

Her eyes began to gather hot tears and her nose began to tickle. Her heart raced and she felt damp.

She looked up and saw Max’s fleeing form slowly begin to be eaten by the last glow of daylight on the road ahead. The last they saw another vehicle was an hour ago. Snowflakes grew louder on the windshield and the acoustic music seemed to mock her. The dinging of the door open warning deafened her.

Victoria sat still, reeling, breathing heavily when the ringing of a phone went off. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

_That’s not my ringtone?_

Victoria sniffled and wiped her eyes as she followed the vibrations and sound to the floor of the passenger seat area. Grabbing around blindly, her hand landed on a phone with a cracked screen.

_Max’s phone._

Victoria picked it up and saw a bright image of Ryan Caulfield pop up. The grown man had a full beard and was wearing two pairs of Easter themed bunny rabbit ears on his head, making a silly face. Max must have taken the photo of her father.

Looking up quickly, she caught sight of a dark spot huddled and rocking in the road and Victoria knew it was Max. The phone vibrated in her hand.

_Do I go after Max or answer the call?_

Victoria didn’t have a fucking clue on what to do. She needed some help.

Lifting and swiping the phone shakily to her ear she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was watery and soft.

 _“Maxine?”_ A sniffle. _“I’m sorry, who is this? Is Max there? It’s her dad.”_

Inhaling unsteadily, she watched the shape of Max ahead of her, just in view of the headlights.

“I’m—my name is Victoria… I…go to school with Max.”

His voice tightened, _“is she alright? Where is she?”_

Max got up and hunched herself over, grabbing tightly to both knees. Her hair covered her entire face, but Victoria knew she was absolutely breaking down. Maybe screaming.

“I—I don’t know what’s happening. I’m with her. She’s—she’s not handling…she’s really upset.”

For the first time that Victoria could remember, she absolutely didn’t know how to explain a situation.

_“Okay, Victoria. Can you do something for me?”_

Victoria gulped, “Oh, uh, yes, Mr. Caulfield.”

_“We thought sending her a text to let her know exactly what was happening and that we would call her after would be kinder. I might have been wrong. This has all been very, very hard for her and it breaks our hearts to know she’s been going through so much ever since— well, I’m assuming you know her circumstances. Can you stay with her—watch her until she’s in the right state of mind? I know her friend Kate isn’t there now, but someone to check in with her until we can see her later this week. I wish more than anything I could be with her for this and it kills both her mother and I to know she’s out there hurting. Listen, it may help to calm her down by—,”_

Victoria kept her eyes glued to Max and when Max started to run farther away from the vehicle, although not fast or elegantly, Victoria knew she had to go out there.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Caulfield. I have to go. I will tell her to call you.”

And Victoria hung up the phone. There probably wasn’t much Ryan could tell her that she didn’t already know.

_She’d go out there if it were me._

And yet, the tiniest of hesitations were there.

_Am I afraid, she’ll reject me? My help?_

And that’s what it was.

_This isn’t about me._

Unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing open the door, she pulled herself out of the car. Bringing her hand above her eyebrows to shield her eyes from the snow, she searched for Max’s shadowed figure.

Picking up a steady run, Victoria gracefully aligned herself when snow would cause her shoes to slip about as she trudged forward. She was a runner after all.

_What do I say? What do I do?_

“Max, _please_. You can’t run from this,” Victoria shouted, her breath curling behind her as she ran.

When she caught up with Max, she could hear Max’s heavy breathing between gasps of cries.

Over her shoulder, Max called back, “Just—stay away. I need you to stay back, Victoria.”

Attempting to pick up pace and stumbling, her converse shoe laces became untied and tangled, Max fell face first into the street of snow.

_Oh, shit. Max!_

It was quiet. The only sound Victoria heard was her own heart pounding, heavy breathing, and her own feet pattering against the snow dampened road. She slowed as she approached from behind, not wanting to scare Max off.

It hurt. It ached.

It hurt to see Max like this and to know she was also running _from_ Victoria.

“Max?” Small, uncertain. “Please…please don’t run away from me like that.”

Max folded in on herself, a tiny odd looking snow angel forming around where she fell. She was eerily quiet, a tight, winding black hole ready to explode and inhale all that was around it.

_I have to fucking try._

Inhaling and blinking back her watering eyes, Victoria gently kneeled a safe distance from Max, her knees making tiny imprints in the new dusting of snow. The headlights shone from behind them, the warmth of the car mocking them down the street.

Victoria tried to ignore the fact that she just left her Porsche running and unattended down the road in an unfamiliar part of town.

Reaching out for Max’s shoulder as she watched them rise, shake, and fall in silent sobs, she felt the tiny kissing of snowflakes on her bare hand. Snow fell and hit Max’s form and wanted to gather there. Victoria touched the back of Max’s shoulder and it must have sparked her.

Wheeling around and pulling her arm away quickly, Max’s wet eyes glowered.

“Don’t fucking touch me. DON’T _TOUCH_ ME.”

With Max whirled around, Victoria could finally see her face. There was no softness in her eyes, just dark, despair, and hurt. It was almost as if they weren’t the same pair of eyes that looked at her minutes before with such soft admiration.

It was as if Victoria could feel the exact moment her heart fissured; something that will wound and be a tiny scar in her memory for the rest of her young life.

_Max like this screaming ‘don’t touch me’._

Victoria eyes quickly searched Max’s face again and a raw looking red chin lesion was bright pink against her white skin from tripping into the street.

“Why do you always do this?” Max’s voice cracked as she peered up, unblinking into Victoria’s cracking face.

Trying to hold face with all of this going on was becoming impossible.

“Do _what_?” Victoria choked back.

Max snapped, “Follow me. Find me. See me like this. Vic—I’m not good for you. Look at me. _Look_ at me. You said it yourself. You said you weren’t good to be around either. We can—we can leave it,” Max inhaled deeply, a breath she desperately needed, “we can leave it at that.”

Victoria gasped, “what do you mean?”

Max dropped her head and used her hands to pull herself to her feet. She hovered over her knees, awkward and still unsteady. The minute her blue eyes met Victoria’s, she already knew what Max meant.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ Caulfield,” Victoria gasped, feeling fear gather in her gut.

Fear that Max never wanted to see her again. Fear that Max would mean it.

Max sniffled harshly and pushed her hair out of her face. The warm brown of her hair was turning darker by the wetness of the snowflakes that gathered.

Suddenly, Max looked older. Those odd moments where Max appeared to have aged in a moment.

_Harsher._

“Why the _fuck_ are you always here, Victoria?” Max’s warm breath swirled around the air between them.

Victoria felt like she had been knocked off center and sat back into the heels of her boots as she stayed there in the snow on her knees.

She looked up shocked, “I’m—I’m here because you _leapt out of my moving car_ , Max! That’s not an alright thing to _do_.”

Max closed her eyes gently, like she was exhausted. A wet streak of tear rushed down her cheek.

“No, _why_ are you here?”

Victoria, again, knew what she meant.

Opening her eyes, finding a new eerie stoniness, Max spoke, “you—you were so cruel. You were so cruel and then you weren’t.”

_Never mind, this is worse than ‘don’t touch me’._

“Bullied me for my camera. My work. My clothes. My friends. What I liked…you were cruel… and then you weren’t. Why would you do _that_?” Max softened, like everything she was saying hurt her too. “What changed?”

“Nothing—,”

“Victoria, please. I need to know.”

_Come on Victoria. No more running. Right? You told Max no more running._

In a voice as gentle and as honest as anything, she answered.

“Everything.”

Max raised a brow over red, glassy eyes, feeling the change in Victoria.

“Nathan. Blackwell. Vortex Club. The photography program. My future. My art. My friends. My priorities.” Victoria sighed and wiped a tear away from her eye. “I changed. You changed.”

She felt her nose and eyes heat up and she desperately wished that she wouldn’t cry here and now, but it was nearly impossible to avoid at this point.

_I’m on the tightrope and Max is on the other side. I’m slipping through her fingers like silk._

“How do you do it, Max? How do you even…go to school at all? How do you shower each morning? How do you do all that when everything you’ve ever known has been scrambled and changed so much that you have no idea where to go anymore or who you are anymore?”

Max sniffled, “I just do. I know who I am.”

Victoria squished her face tightly in attempt to halt the betraying tears. “I wish I did.” Yet, they fell.

Wiping away at the red raw looking sore on her chin, Max frowned looking down at the streak of blood, “I think you know exactly who you are.”

Looking up into Max’s eyes, nearly pleading, she breathed, “and what if I don’t know?”

Narrowing her eyes, “you do. I’ve seen you.”

Covering her face into the palms of her cold hands and letting herself fall from the back of her boots into the snow beneath her, Victoria felt the hottest stream of tears she had experienced in a while.

“I can’t look at you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. For this. For my words. For all the eternally shitty things I’ve said to you before I knew you. You want the truth? You want to know why I’m here right now with you?”

Hearing no response from Max, but feeling her attention on Victoria, she continued.

“The truth is Max, you made me lose grip on who I was,” she breathed into her palms as her voice caught in her throat.

_Don’t sob now._

“Well—Well I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you and your ‘ _plans_ ’.”

_Her voice sounds really hurt._

“No, you’re mis—,”

“—that’s wrong, Victoria. That is _wrong_.” And Victoria swore she could hear the dropping of a pin.

Victoria pulled her face from her palms as not looking at Max was becoming more painful than seeing Max. Either way, she had to know.

She was terrified.

The tension in the air was almost as sharp as the icy Oregon wind. Beneath the sharp knife of tension was the fear of the aftermath. It loomed there as both were dancing on a high wire perched for either flight or fight.

And even beneath all that—a blanketing of desire to be raw.

Max’s nostrils flared, “the whole flirty bits, Victoria? That was a nice touch. I always figured you were good at performing to get what you needed, but I—I thought maybe I _wasn’t_ crazy, you know?”

Victoria dropped her jaw, “What—?”

“ _What_? I really thought that maybe you—that maybe I wasn’t crazy. That maybe you were trying to reach out to me in that way. I can’t say I’m shocked. I wasn’t ever really sure if you—I mean look at me, right? You deserve better than this as… as a… _friend_.” Her voice lowered, “I thought you _liked_ me.”

_What—what? I don’t know what to do, what the fuck do I do?_

Her skin tingled and her breathing increased rapidly. She was hanging onto Max by one singular, twitching thread and she knew one wrong word would send her falling.

Acting on what she wanted was usually so easy. She had never been so terrified to take a leap in her life.

_She knows. She fucking knows and she said it out loud._

“Maybe… Maybe it’s better if we leave now, Victoria. Before we do or say anything else.”

_Max is taking your fucking frozen in fear issue wrongly._

Victoria knew that once it was out, it was out. She was out and there would never ever be a _going_ _back_.

Max turned on her heel and began walking toward the vehicle, laces still untied, head tilted forward and down. Her arms hung sadly at her sides, hiding in the jacket pockets. All Victoria could see was Max’s shadow walking away. The headlights blinded her.

_Go. Say something._

“Are you crazy?”

Max’s shadow stopped.

“ _What_?”

Victoria inhaled, feeling a bit more sturdy since deciding to speak.

“You can’t just walk away,” Victoria choked out, throat dry.

She watched Max’s head turn ever so slightly in the beam of the headlights. It was like she was considering her options. A big moment or…

_What did she call it? Timeline altering decisions?_

Victoria pulled herself to her feet and brushed excess snow from her wet bottom. For all the emotions that she was feeling now in this circumstance, certainly this moment was not the time for someone to walk away from her. That string wasn’t lost yet.

Max must have decided and opened her mouth.

“I’m—sorry. You don’t need me around. I can’t keep doing—whatever this is. I can’t, Victoria. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore after tonight.”

Standing there in the freeze of the late day after Thanksgiving, nearly ankle deep in white snow, staring at the person who had swam through her thoughts and her daydreams, who had the courage to look past all the guard dogs, fences, and pitfalls to find the truth and had the want to understand. Standing there with a soaking wet, cold ass in a Christian Dior jacket, crying the most confused tears of her life, she watched the last string slip as Max turned away.

So she ran.

Snowflakes collided with her long eyelashes and mixed with her confused, wet tears. She inhaled frosty, choking bits of snowflake as she cried.

_How dare she? She’s just going to walk away now?_

She ran harder.

_I don’t care if it’s easier. I don’t care. I’m not letting it go this time._

She gained distance on Max quickly. Her heart felt heavy—upset, scared.

_She can’t just avoid this too. No more running, I told you Max. No more running._

* * *

_**{MAX}** _

 

“I’m—sorry. You don’t need me around. I can’t keep doing—whatever this is. I can’t, Victoria. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore after tonight.”

Tiny wisps of breath danced in the beams of the car’s headlights as she turned her head back around to attempt to walk to the car through blurry, wet eyes. Snowflakes landed and stuck to her wet cheeks.

Max had to decide while standing there, her back to Victoria; both pathways unknown and truly uncertain; To stay or to run.

_Victoria didn’t say anything. Why didn’t she say anything? She just looked so…scared?_

So she decided to run. Maybe Victoria never really gave her certain looks at all. Maybe Max was just really good at latching onto the only bit of kindness she had been spared the last few months. Was staying platonic acquaintances the best possible option for them?

_But in the car a few minutes ago…She…She looked at me different._

Perhaps it was a multitude of things that frightened her.

_Like how much I don’t want to be platonic._

Or how the moment of turning away hurt so deep that it had been so long since she felt that type of ache.

_What am I so scared of?_

Small, quick paced thuds from behind captured her attention. Max stopped and turned around slowly.

_Maybe I’m scared to try._

“Wha—?”

Victoria halted a short distance from Max. Her eyes were red, shiny and her cheeks were soaked. That surprised her, sure, but not as much as the hastily formed ball of snow in her hands.

Before she could be sure of what was happening, the ball of snow was launched in her direction by a very frustrated Victoria. It came soaring at Max and collided with a ‘ _ **thud**_ ’ into Max’s left shoulder.

“ _Ow_ , Jesus Christ!”

After the deed had been done and both girls stood in the exposing beam light of the car, Victoria shifted from one foot to the other teetering with energy. With a large visible inhale, she lowered her chin and blinked wetness away.

“No, you know what, Caulfield? Fuck that. _Fuck that_. How dare you?! You can’t just dump that on me and then decide for _me_ and then walk _away_.”

“Vic—,”

“And don’t you ever tell me that we shouldn’t see each other again. How can you stand there and say something like that?” Victoria lowered her brows into a heavy line, searching Max’s troubled face.

“Is that how you feel, Max?” her voice cracked and she closed her eyes in frustration.

Max’s heartbeat sped up in her chest. She had never seen Victoria this way before; it was a lot to take in.

“I—I’m just me, Victoria. How are we going to be friends when school starts back up? Eventually, you’ll have to explain things. I’m giving you an out now. You won’t owe me anything. I wouldn’t blame you.” Max swallowed, gaining some grounding, “Everyone leaves. Everyone _goes_. I’m giving you a way out now. You’re _you_ and I’m just _me_.”

A burst of passion overcame the blonde, “Will you please stop making choices for me. I mean _shit_. My parents make choices for me, our instructors make choices for me, my friends make choices for me. You aren’t listening to _me_ , Caulfield.”

Victoria stood there, nearly vibrating beneath the falling of snow, her face pleading for Max to listen. Her blonde pixie hair was soaked in snow and her ears were a bright pink.

She looked so vulnerable, yet beneath that rested a fire.

_Am I not listening to Victoria?_

“ _Did I go? Did I leave_?”

Max blinked, taken aback. “I—,”

Exhaling heavily, swirls of warm air curled into the space between them, Victoria jutted her chin upward in the huff of suppressed tears. Her green eyes looked nearly brown in the half-light of the car's beams.

“You are so smart. _So_ smart. But you’re so thick.”

_Thick?_

Max gave a watery laugh, “Hey! I’m not thick.”

“For someone who is known for being a wallflower, you are surprisingly bad at reading the things the happen to _you_. You tell me you know me, right? Then why am _I_ here? You say you’re not thick, now answer it.”

Max scoffed. This was not where she expected the night to be leading at all. Her entire outfit was drenched and the cold had her quivering. The nerves had her shaking. Victoria’s face had her quaking.

_Maybe I wasn’t blind or crazy, maybe she has been sending signals for a while…_

“I don’t know…because you feel bad for me? You feel bad for me so you bring me Chinese take-out and help me study and bring me my jacket when I’m cold…and pick out expensive outfits for me.”

Victoria massaged her temples, “and why would I ever do any of those things for you?”

“Because you feel bad, I just said—,”

Making a growling noise, Victoria bent over quickly and wadded up a loose ball of snow before chucking it at Max. It hit her forearm, spreading tiny snow bits across the air.

The air was tight again.

“No, you absolute dolt! I’m _here_. I’m standing right here in front of you and you still can’t see. Surely, your self-confidence isn’t that low.”

Max shook her forearm and tiny bits of left over snow fell to the ground.

_Max, look at her._

“I’m sorry, Vic. I’m having a hard time seeing anything clearly, so please don’t take it personally.”

Finally, Max looked up to catch Victoria’s face. It was soft, careful, pained.

_I made her upset. She’s… really upset._

She opened her mouth, flared her nostrils and her voice cracked, “I _choose_ to spend time with you. I choose to stand in the snow and stay with you when you’re not feeling well. I choose to do those things… for _you_. Not for me.”

_Oh, wow. It’s just…it’s just out there._

“What?” Max squeaked.

“Oh, my god!” Victoria swooped down for a handful of snow to chuck at Max.

Max braced herself again as the icy mix hit her in the chest. Their breathing swirled into the dark yellow winter sky. Snowflakes kissed their icy, damp skin.

_Okay, let’s talk._

Like the moment after a jarring spark from a firecracker, the quiet burned through both of their ears. Max tucked her arms across her chest and looked up. Hardly a star to be seen and the Earth was so quiet. Snowflakes crashed into her open eyes.

“What are you thinking?” The nervous voice spoke.

“That was a very one sided snowball fight…” Max lowered her head and caught Victoria’s confused expression.

Bending over and gathering her own ball of snow, she watched Victoria’s face change quickly. She was catching on.

“Oh, no, Caulfield—don’t you dare—,”

Gently tossing it at the peeved looking girl, it splattered into her right leg and crumbled.

“And there’s one for you, too.”

Dropping her jaw and huffing, Victoria began scooping up more snow. Max felt a tiny grin pull at her face as she followed and gathered up a ball.

“Caulfield, is this—is this really the time for a snowball fight?”

Max was a bit quicker and tossed her snowball first. It landed with a soft thud on Victoria’s unsuspecting hand.

“You started it and you called me a _dolt_. Victoria Chase? Of all the insults in the world that I’m sure you’ve collected in a binder somewhere, you picked dolt? Who says that anymore, anyway?”

Victoria’s snowball was dodged by Max as it flew over her shoulder.

Looking surprised at Max’s random quick reflexes, she reached down to scoop up another. Max formed another small, weakly packed snowball and tossed it near Victoria. It splattered weakly a foot away.

“Yeah, well I’m on a nice kick, no thanks to you. Also, you’re not very good at pitching, Caulfield!”

“I take pictures! I don’t pitch!” Max wadded up another ball.

_Ha. Okay then…_

Max and Victoria locked eyes. Max looked to her right at a pile of snow. Victoria shifted. Suddenly, both were furiously creating odd sized shapes of snow to toss at one another.

“Well, you’re still a dolt. You’ve got the most impressive eye for life and photography, better than anybody else at this school and you’re willing to just throw it all away and lose a scholarship to eat cereal in your underwear! For what?”

A rogue snowball hit Victoria in the foot.

“Yeah, alright. Okay, I can do an insult too, believe it or not! Well… you—you’re willing to put your image before your own happiness. You’re always worried about what other people are thinking.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

A beat. A whirling snowball flying past.

“What are you so scared of?”

Victoria’s nostrils flared again, Max was getting to a very sore spot.

But Max was frustrated, she was confused, and she was freezing.

“Oh. Well then. Maybe I’ll put “Not Giving a Fuck About What Other People Think” on my Christmas list. Sounds easy enough.”

“Why not start now? What are you scared of, Chase? You’re the first person to submit your photo for every fucking project. You get awards and little plaques and you know—those certificates they send you in the mail with a keychain when you win for a photograph you took? And yes, I saw them in your room. I know, I’m nosey.”

Max winced and rambled on in a moment of unfiltered passion, “Anyway, it’s because you’re spectacular. You find the time to run a club, hold a 3.9 GPA, submit your artwork to contests, go _jogging_ , actually do your homework, hang out with an _exhausting_ amount of people, and _still_ hold a beauty routine while keeping up an air tight image. You kick ass! You are so spectacularly crafted…but the most fantastic part? I am slowly meeting the Victoria that is raw and kind and honest. You find a way to sneak into my thoughts and stay there.”

Max dropped her snowball at her foot, exhaling a breath in realization of how good it all felt to get those thoughts off her chest and out in the open, icy air. She shrugged at her confession, between a weird state of exhaustion and being revved up.

Victoria’s eyes were watery and wide, she seemed frozen, on the brink of either hollering or crying. The only indication that she was breathing were the tiny wisps of warm breath billowing from her opened mouth.

“So again, what has gotten you so flustered?”

A snowball came swirling through the air and collided hard with Max’s face.

“ _YOU!_ You have _me_ flustered.”

Max wobbled and winced as she wiped the snow fragments from her cheek. It stung a bit.

_I shouldn’t have pushed her buttons. I shouldn’t have. Wait… me?_

A tiny gasp, “I’m _so sorry_. Max, I’m sorry.”

Max shook some wet snow out of her hair and shot the nervy Victoria a weak smile.

“Nah, it’s okay. I think I deserved that one. I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. I shouldn’t fluster you.” Max took a step forward and whispered, “but… _me_?”

Victoria’s shoulders fell slightly, her face relaxed the tiniest of ways.

Watching the snowflakes fall around them, Max took a step back. Their wild foot streaks in the snow on the empty road danced like a coded message from their impromptu snowball fight. Max was pretty certain it was over now.

Not knowing what to do, Max gave Victoria’s weary face a lopsided, harmless grin.

Victoria seemed to soften then, the wave of anguish passing. Her protected wall being pulled down. Her breath curled in the air as her eyes seemed to be searching for the exact words she needed to say.

“I wake up and…and I think of you. I think of your rough hands in mine. I think of your ocean eyes. I think about your bullshit soft _smiles_. I think about the way your eyes and face glow with this beautiful light and curiosity whenever you’re working on photographs. I think about you loaning me your jacket even when it’s freezing and you giving me finger guns on the sidewalk like an _internet comedian_.”

Victoria and her winter white skin blushed with pink, “that stupid, charming _puppy_ look you do when you don’t know what to say. The way your freckles move along your cheeks when you smile. I…I can’t…I can’t keep pretending I’m something I’m not with you. Especially when you found me out.”

_Oh, wow._

Max wasn’t sure she could breathe even if she wanted to. It was like every word carefully picked by Victoria clicked into place. The puzzle of Victoria Chase. A tireless, ever changing advanced level puzzle. Max perhaps only had a small section clicked together, but they were starting to make more sense.

“I don’t know exactly where we’re going from here, but I know if I don’t say any of this now, it’ll eat away at me. I…”

Victoria reached up anxiously and smoothed some wet hair away from her forehead, avoiding Max’s eyes. It was like she couldn’t meet them yet, all her thoughts still coming to the forefront while there was a burst of courage.

“You’ve come into my life at the oddest of times. You scare me. You’re better than me. Nobody… has been ‘better’ than me. You’re confident, kind, tough…you’re not scared of liking who you like. _People_ like you. And I know you don’t believe it, but you’re so universally attractive and beautiful. I’m so afraid, Max. I’m so fucking scared because I _want_ you. I like you. I want to be around you. Even though it’s crazy, and it’s probably landing on dead ears here—,”

“Victoria.”

Victoria apprehensively and slowly met Max’s blue eyes, doused in wonder.

“No dead ears here.” She answered softly.

Max grinned and though she was soaked and freezing, her core radiated a warmth she hadn’t felt in a while.

There was the tiniest beat of a moment.

“Alright, well…that was more embarrassing than I thought it would be. If any of that grossed you out or whatever, feel free to avoid me awkwardly for the rest of the school year. I’ll just be the girl who poured her heart out to you. And you’ll be Max Caulfield: Lady Killer.”

And like that, the energy changed again. Open, thoughtful, honest.

Max tilted her chin up playfully and took a step toward Victoria. She pulled her hands out of her jacket pockets and shoved them into the front of her jeans. The warmth of the jean pockets were slightly better than the jacket at the very least.

Victoria was looking as radiant as ever in the cool dampness of the Oregon snow and in the beams of the headlights. Max figured she probably appeared more like a wet dog herself. And yet, there was something so vulnerable about the exposing, harsh rays of the headlights, the pinkness in their cheeks, and the racing of their hearts.

_How does Victoria Chase make swampy snow soaked teenager look good?_

And it was strange, the way Victoria’s eyes had changed once Max spoke and assured her that she was in fact present, listening, there. Her cheeks held their flirty shade of pink, all previous frustration subsided. Replaced with it was a new knowledge.

The possibilities.

Max was thinking about them too.

Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she looked up through heavy eyelashes to smile softly at Victoria.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really are thick.” Max licked her lips, feeling the energy build in her stomach.

And Max wanted nothing more than to be the person Victoria contacted in the middle of the night if she was upset and couldn’t sleep. To be the person who held her on bad days.

Max wanted to be the one who had Victoria asleep in the crevice of her arm after a bad rom-com movie.

_Her bedhead is probably really cute. Okay, she’s staring and looking nervous. Say something, Max._

And so she did.

“I’d like…I’d like to be the one you text or call when things are bad. Or the person you go out with to eat the weird, semi-fancy stuff you like to eat. I want to help smooth down your hair when you first wake up. I want to hear more songs that make me think of you. I want to make little playlists and put them on real CDs and slide them under your door like the hipster I am to surprise you.”

Making a tiny cough of embarrassment, but knowing that hearing it would make Victoria happy, she laughed, “I _sort of_ wanted to kiss you a few times I think…”

Victoria’s brows shot to her wet hair line, “You _think_?”

“Yeah, I was worried. I didn’t want to make a mistake and scare you off. We both know that I have things going on, but you have consistently reminded me that it will probably be okay. In the long run. You just don’t quit. I admire that. And you don’t see me as this wounded thing. You see me for who I am and what I could be.”

“Well, I think you’re a pretty tough softie… _annnnd_ maybe a tiny, little bit cute.”

Max dropped her jaw in feigned hurt, “A tiny, little bit cute? Yesterday I was handsome and now I’ve leveled down to ‘a tiny, little bit cute’.”

“Are you pushing it, Max?” she teased with a quivering lip. She looked icy and wet and Max wanted to get her into a warmer place.

Rubbing her hands against her wet jacket arms, she gestured back toward the running car.

“So, you have that unoccupied Porsche sitting here in the middle of the road and I think we should get back to it. You’re cold. And I’m so sorry for dragging you out here.” Max frowned catching a glance at Victoria’s cool tinted lips.

Victoria inhaled, pondering, as if she didn’t expect Max to say this. She shivered, gave Max a half-nod and walked toward her driver’s door that remained ajar.

_Was she waiting for something else?_

Max held back and watched the tall, poised and still heart-achingly beautiful girl dip inside the vehicle.

_I shouldn’t have let her stay out here so long. It’s fucking freezing._

She peered around for one last look at the dark trees towering above her and the dark yellowed winter sky. Snowflakes landed on her nose and she couldn’t help the tiny grin that spread along her face.

Standing in the middle of the road, looking up into the bright, winter sky, she felt impossibly lighter.

_Well, we’ve got a lot to figure out. Somehow, that was a lot to take in, but I feel better…in some way._

A loud, abrupt honk erupted through the air and Max flinched. She caught Victoria’s coy, white toothed smile from inside the vehicle. She motioned at Max to join.

Giving her best shrug for Victoria’s sake, she headed around to the passenger side. Before reaching the door, she caught glimpse of a soft looking bit of purple fabric on the back seat inside the car. She inhaled and pulled herself into the car with the slam of the door.

First, what hit her was the blasting heat. It breezed along her wet hair and cold, icy face. She shivered with pleasure as the seat instantly began to warm beneath her.

“Holy shit, this car is amazing. You’ve got heated seats?”

“Of course I do.” Victoria answered between the chattering of her teeth that were spread into a sly smile. “All my passengers get only the best.”

Max gave her an easy-going smile in return. “I bet this would help warm you up,” Max stated as she reached for Victoria’s forgotten purple couch blanket.

Victoria watched Max curiously in the dim lighting of the car. Her eyes would occasionally take laps around Max’s face.

_What is she looking for?_

Unfolding the blanket a bit clumsily with her frozen hands, she leaned across the console and wrapped it around Victoria’s damp shoulders and torso.

Victoria’s brows furrowed, “what about you?”

Max shrugged casually, attempting to hide the quivering of her own body.

“I’m tough remember? ‘Said so yourself.”

A thoughtful, soft smile played on Max’s lips as Victoria warmed up beneath the blanket. Max ran her hands down her blanket covered arms and attempted to see if friction helped any. Victoria allowed Max to rub down her shoulders and back as they both avoided eye contact due to a universal shyness that typically occurred after two people revealed their feelings to one another.

“Maybe that’s a bit better. A snowball fight probably wasn’t the best idea,” Max coyly eyed Victoria’s avoidant face.

Victoria frowned, raised a brow and scoffed. “No, I think a snowball fight was definitely the right idea.”

Max halted her arms at Victoria’s shoulders and tilted her head, brows knit. “Mmm…well, _I_ took a ball to the face. Remind me to always stay on your good side.”

A look of regret accompanied by a display of worry flashed over the blonde.

“ _Oh_ ,” a gentle laugh. “Max, I’m so sorry. I—,” her icy hand came up to Max’s cheek where the snow ball had splattered earlier. Her fingers slowly swept over her cheekbone, to the edge of her jaw. Then tracing the length of her jaw, Victoria settled her fingers at Max’s chin near the new face wound sustained from tripping over her loose shoe laces.

Max’s heart was beating so hard she wasn’t sure if she could hear anything over the thumping in her eardrums. Victoria had never done anything like this before.

A ringed, slender thumb traced the curve of Max’s chin.

_Oh, what do I do?_

Truly observing her, Max’s eyes drank in the form of Victoria. Her blonde pixie hair was matted, wet and messy. The very tips of her ears still held an endearing shade of pink from the cold. The very edge of her pointed nose echoed the color of her ear tips. Her lips were gaining their color back and they still somehow managed to look incredibly soft and pillow like. Her smooth skin was less pale with a hint of soft, reflective dewiness from the snow.

 _And those green eyes…_ It was enough for Max to forget her human nature and breathe.

And then Max needed to meet her sincere emerald eyes that reflected the glowing colors of the dashboard.

And how Max ever saw Victoria as anything other than who she was in this moment now, stunned her.

_Victoria waking up in a ray of sunshine in a tank top beside me._

_Victoria’s head resting on my shoulder in the dark of a movie theatre._

_Victoria laughing over a cradled cup of hot coffee._

_Victoria’s soft, slender hand curled into mine on a long drive._

_Victoria and her soft lips tracing my neckline in the back of a car._

The possibilities.

Wondering how long she had been open mouth staring at Victoria with the dozen scenarios zipping across her brain, she let out an honest and freeing breath.

_I don’t know if she’s ever looked as wonderful as she does now._

“Jesus. You’re—you’re absolutely breath taking,” Max echoed aloud her thoughts.

“Oh, god. I’m soaking and hideous,” Victoria smirked tiredly. The gentle warmth of her breath hit Max’s face with her scoff.

_We’re… really close._

Victoria’s thumb made gentle nonchalant circles at Max’s chin, it was as if Victoria herself was lost in a hundred different scenarios.

There was an unspoken tension so high that both were afraid that a single breath could cause it to clash at its peak.

Max realized she hadn’t moved her hands from Victoria’s shoulders the entire time. Her own thumbs made absent minded circles in the soft blanket fabric that she had swaddled Victoria up in.

She wanted to keep her warm, safe, protected.

“You…you are ethereal,” Max whispered.

And she knew she could never forget the way Victoria was looking at her now, pink tipped nose, sparkling eyes and all.

The quiet, white-noise of the heater in the car was all the sound around them other than the soft pattering of snow on the windows.

_Make your choice._

“Thank you…for not…leaving me out there,” Max breathed quietly, feeling like her voice may crack.

Gently, Victoria’s hands moved to the sides of Max’s face and they cradled there for a moment. Her green eyes looked watery, deep, wondering. They traced along Max’s face with a new-found introspection… as if maybe, Victoria was seeing her freely for the first time too.

A thought, a moment, an apprehension took over Victoria’s face and Max felt the soft, slender hands slip away from her cool skin.

Then it felt suddenly empty without them there.

Melancholic, “We need to get you back to campus. I’m throwing you into the hottest, most scalding shower you’ve ever experienced, hippie. Your little lips are blue.”

And like that, Victoria was back and a bit more solidified.

_But… but…_

And for some reason, Max didn’t feel like things were finished here just yet. Like there was that last thing she needed to do. It was whatever Victoria was waiting for. Max’s heart leapt in her chest when Victoria pulled the car back into drive with a resounding sigh.

_Wait…_

With Victoria’s hands gone and her attention back to driving duties, Max felt a bit lonelier in the moment. It was as if she was starving for the warmth that her across-the-hall neighbor provided.

_I need it._

For the second time that day, Max decided to get a little reckless inside of a rich girl’s Porsche 911.

“ _Max—_?”

Max’s hand intertwined longingly with the top of Victoria’s driving hand at the height of the steering wheel.

Victoria visibly went a little stiff, uncertain on what was happening.

Max trailed her hands down gently, gliding over the top smooth spread of skin at the back of Victoria’s hand. She swirled tiny, concentrated patterns at the crook of her wrist. She ran her hand down her forearm back up to her right shoulder. All the while, Victoria seemed to relax and grow in anxiousness within the same time.

_I do make her flustered…_

This was a different type of nervous. A heart-racing wonderment of being close to a person that made the endorphins spark and fire.

It was Max’s turn to investigate and revel in the well-sculpted beauty before her.

Victoria fucking Chase. Blackwell Beauty. Queen Bee.

_Just Victoria._

Victoria’s eyes became brightened by the reflection of the exit sign, a brilliant flash of green when they met Max’s, and within that moment Max could see it in her eyes: the missing thing—the fleeting moment she’d remember until her last days.

“I am possibly viewing one of the most incredibly surreal and heightened real life movie moments my life will ever have and my only regret is that I don’t have a camera to capture you as you are now—this soggy, anxiously bright-eyed, picturesque person illuminated by exit signs,” Max stated aloud as truly as anything ever was.

Victoria exhaled the quietest of, _‘oh’s_.

Max inhaled, gathering confidence, as she felt Victoria’s breathing increase from below her tracing hands.

She wanted to feel the warm soft skin at the back of Victoria’s neck. She needed to, she realized, and the very tips of her fingernails moved upward, drawing mindless, wondering figure shapes in the space between the back of Victoria’s hairline and the neckline of her jacket.

Max looked up through a wave of messy bangs at Victoria, a tiny, sheepish smile tucking into her cheek. Victoria stole tiny glances at Max here and there, her eyes widening, like she knew what Max was thinking. They bounced between the road and what was happening inside the car.

_Did Victoria just shiver?_

“I kind of—sorta—really, want to give you a kiss right now—,” Max whispered.

Lurching forward in her seat in surprise, the car quickly slowed and stopped roughly in the middle of the snowy road.

A second of silence mixed with heavy breathing; hearts racing.

“Do—do you want me to drive us off a curve into the forest in a deadly crash, Caulfield! I mean, _Jesus Christ_. You—you can’t be doing that—,”

So Max was making her decision. Her need to be close was overcoming the fear of the unknown possibility of rejection.

Her free hand found its way to the blanket draped around Victoria’s shoulders and she grabbed it, needing.

_Pull her close._

Victoria’s bright pink cheeks and fluttering eyes had their share of hunger within them, Max saw it.

Max’s heartbeat danced in her throat and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to get a good enough breath in.

The want, the need, the hunger of having her close took over the doubts, insecurities, worries…

“ _Max—_ ,”

And Max swore she could listen to Victoria whispering her name in that way for the rest of eternity. Like a favorite song.

She felt Victoria’s gentle, pleading, warm exhale on the fragile, dry skin of her lips as she pulled close in an achingly slow move.

And they were so _close_. Max could feel the softness of Victoria’s cheekbone against hers. It thrilled every nerve ending in her skin.

A tiny gasp, Max wasn’t sure whose.

Two foreheads, set together, the anguish of waiting for the few millimeters to close nearly unbearable.

Then:

Brushing of chilly, wintery, nervous lips.

A sigh.

_Spark._

The softness of Victoria’s lips astounded her, befuddled her, drowned her like the soft sand at the mercy of the invincible ocean tide.

_I’m in it._

And it was surely taking her away.

Her hand nestled into the tingling spot of heat at the back of Victoria’s neck as she grew a bit needier for a deeper kiss. Victoria grasped at Max’s shoulder, wishing for intimacy and warmth.

Max wasn’t sure if she should or could breathe at all.

_I’m kissing Victoria Chase._

Victoria made a quiet _‘hmph’_ noise against the curve of Max’s lips as the car made a few inches forward. Her foot obviously slipping from the brake due to the heat of the moment.

Victoria was then breaking away so suddenly and quickly, Max was certain she couldn’t see straight when her lips broke from Victoria’s.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Victoria whimpered, dazed as she hit the brake to the car again, her sight now glued straight ahead.

Max, in a slight sense of panic, felt the tiny bit of color she regained fall away from her face. Victoria was nearly unreadable in a far-off daze.

_Wrong time? Was it a bad kiss?_

Worried and unsure of her motives, Max released a breath and pushed hair from her eyes in the silence of the car. Victoria looked frozen in time, like a beautiful sculpted creature from a foreign film.

_Yeah, wrong time. She’s driving!_

“I’m…I’m sorry. That—I probably shouldn’t have done that. That was dumb. I—I’m,” Max blurted in a cacophony of stutters.

Unreadable. Stoic… _astonished_? Quickly, Victoria seemed to break from her deep daze and roughly pulled the stopped car into park again.

Why wouldn’t Victoria just look at her?

_I don’t know._

“I got lost in it, I’m—,”

Before Max could finish her ridiculous rambling apology, Victoria had hastily thrown herself over the separating arm rest between them and Max found herself with an arm full of Victoria Chase.

_Holy **shit**._

Something in her lifetime she’d never have predicted.

“ _Stop_.” Victoria’s hands grappled around the lapels of Max’s leather jacket and pulled her upward toward her smirking lips. “ _Talking_.” Her eyes took point to capture Max at this absolutely incredulous moment.

There was a coyish twinkling, a bright licking hunger displayed in her green eyes.

_A desire._

Victoria tugged at Max’s lapels again, her eyebrows knitting into a desperate want as she settled haphazardly into Max’s lap.

_Oh, my god._

Max could feel her hands shaking as they gripped tightly to Victoria’s snow-damp back, to steady her, to let her know that Max was right there with her.

Their lips met again. This time from Victoria’s yearning.

At first soft, gentle—the need for a sweet taste before exploring.

Victoria elegantly perched atop Max’s lap. Their bodies never being this close before caused a whole new type of energy to stir their stomachs.

_Victoria kissing back._

It wasn’t a questionable kiss, it wasn’t uncertain. It was solid, like she had been waiting for the moment to do it.

Max could have sworn the entire span of skin on her body tingled and electrified and she was sure that if Victoria wasn’t weighted on top of her, she would float away—a dissolving, floating bit of energy.

_She feels… she feels wonderful._

Victoria moved her head and began to kiss Max from another angle. Wanting, shaking, excited. They pulled apart for tiny intakes of air, nothing more. Max furrowed her brows, inhaling deeply the soft, floral scent of Victoria’s damp hair. She was certainly drowning right here and now.

Heart leaping at the soft damp line of Victoria’s tongue against her unsuspecting bottom lip, parting her mouth, Max allowed Victoria to explore deeper.

_I want her to._

Victoria’s gentle, experienced hands left behind the leather jacket lapels for the soft tenderness of Max’s exposed neck.

She certainly couldn’t suppress the sigh that passed from her lips to Victoria’s.

Max wanted to feel her skin, any skin.

Finding her way to Victoria’s soft throat with her quivering, cold hands, she slid them upward and grabbed at the hair behind Victoria’s ears gently, eagerly.

When Victoria gave an approving exhale against her rough lips, Max smiled into another heated kiss. Victoria scooted closer on Max’s lap with a soft sigh. How it was possible, Max wasn’t sure.

Max noted Victoria's lips tasted like peppermint. A flavor she never considered lips to be, but found the taste pretty enjoyable.

They parted for a needed breath of air and Max opened her mouth to speak, as it was her place to blurt out something in the middle of anything passionate and unexplored that made her nervous. Victoria looked down at Max from her perch on the brunette’s lap and sank her full weight onto Max’s thighs. Her eyes never broke away.

In the gentle, LED lighting of the car, Max peeked the redness in Victoria’s cheeks and the plumpness of her pink lips. Her high cheekbones looked cut and feminine and above those were the heavy-lidded needy eyes of the most popular girl in school.

Max’s throat tightened at the constant weight and warmth of Victoria straddled above her.

_This is certainly new._

“Thanks…for you know, kissing back.”

“Will you please stop…” Victoria raised a curved, red looking lip, “talking, _Caulfield_.” A slender pointer finger was placed over the empty span of Max’s lips where Victoria’s had just been exploring.

Max felt her face burn with a fire of encouragement as a toothy grin spread along her tingling lips. Max couldn’t stop grinning like a doofus even if she tried.

_Closer…closer._

Reaching up, relishing the movement of doing so, she found herself smoothing some messy blonde strands from Victoria’s temple, Max gave a breathy chuckle, astonished at where she was right now.

Victoria leaned back a bit to get a better view of Max’s face. Her eyes were silky, confident, seductive, with a dash of amusement. She angled her head and observed Max from her perch atop her lap.

“I lied before.” Victoria raised a singular, killer brow, “You’re not ‘a tiny, little, bit cute’.”

Max furrowed her brows and angled her face upward to catch Victoria’s spreading, mischievous grin.

“You’re _disgustingly_ cute,” she settled on with a gentle, charismatic groan.

The cheeks on her face tingling and her heart cascading in her chest like a thousand race horses, Max raised a singular, happy brow to contest Victoria.

Within the moment of a breath, Victoria’s face transformed. Her thumb ran along the miniscule lines of Max’s lips and Victoria sensitively surveyed Max’s tiny face movements as if they were the ending to her favorite film. Like a detail couldn’t be missed, for it would be wrong to do.

“You’re beautiful, Max Caulfield. I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while now… _I think_.”

And there it was, the repeat and word play; the clever and impossibly placed jab mimicking Max’s word choice from earlier in the passionate display of cascading emotions.

_She’s good._

“So are we friends, now, Chase?” Max playfully toyed, letting her hands smooth the back of Victoria’s damp hair.

Blinking a few times, the joke hit Victoria, too.

Looking down at herself straddled over Max’s thighs in the tiny foreign car seat, Victoria gave one of her best performative scoffs Max had ever seen or heard and shook her head good-naturedly.

“I guess so, Caulfield.”

Beneath Victoria’s tender thumb, Max’s lips fell into a lopsided puppy-dog smile. She wondered if her own lips now held essence of peppermint too.

“Want to shake on it?” Max mumbled beneath the soft skin of Victoria’s thumb.

Victoria raised a brow, scrunched her face humorously, and shook her head.

“Nah, I’d rather kiss on it,” she whispered, leaning in again like the wait had been an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> (Imagine me making finger-guns at you like an /internet comedian/ even though Victoria would roll her eyes). 
> 
> So, how is everyone doing after that chapter? What's going on inside your heads? I hope I get to hear from you all as it's my last post here on SL and it's been a pleasure spending time with you.
> 
> So if y'all went and spoiled me with replies, I wouldn't be too upset about it, I promise. ;) I always try my best to reply back to all of them. So say, hi! Or whatever. ;)
> 
> And I'm SURE many of you are like, "when are they going to talk about a SERIES ALREADY?" Alright, alright, you got me.
> 
> I'm working on #2 currently. I can't exactly say when chapter one will be published, but if you're interested in #2, I'd suggest keep checking back with me or adding alerts or something. Strange Love is very Man v. Self, #2 will be very Man v. Society/Man v. Man. I'm experimenting with widening their circle of who they interact with, so this next one will bring that lens a bit wider so we can see who M/V are around others too. 
> 
> It's not much, but it's a bit of a hint. Next one is fun with dialogue, so maybe that's something to look forward to. 
> 
> Again, thanks for leaving comments/kudos. Let me know what you thought. 
> 
> Gotta Blaze,
> 
> Cas
> 
> **ALSO! Made an email exclusively for writing and talking with you folks! Reach me at badwolvwrites@gmail.com to talk about LiS/characters/story ideas/questions! We could always use more writer/reader friends. (Plus the messaging system is weak here at Archive).
> 
> *Someone emailed asking about taking paid commissions/gifts for one shots/stories and I'm open to the idea. I ship Pricefield/Chasefield/Amberprice. So let me know. (I'm pretty much fine with most of the ships in LiS, not anything Jefferson or Warren, but everything else is comfortable for me).
> 
> I'll miss you all. Until next update.


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